


Wonderful Caricature of Intimacy

by sebastian2017



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: (and sexual BDSM too dont worry yall lol), Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, BDSM, Bottom Erik Lehnsherr, Canon Disabled Character, Canon Jewish Character, Dom Charles and sub Erik, Falling In Love, Fluff, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Platonic BDSM, Sex Work, Sex Worker Erik Lehnsherr, Slow Burn, Top Charles Xavier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2020-04-12 09:37:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 52,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19129402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sebastian2017/pseuds/sebastian2017
Summary: Charles has struggled with his love life since the accident that took his spine when he was a teenager. Despite his reservations, he takes up a friend's suggestion to hire a sex worker. Nothing serious, just someone who can help him bite the bullet, catch up to his peers, and figure out how to do anything with his mess of a body. A simple enough plan that leads him to one Erik L, unspeakably charming rentboy that Charles is happy to fool around with for a bit.He doesn't expect he might actually end up catching feelings for him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic idea was sparked by that one episode of Special (the Netflix show) but beyond this first chapter, it's very different. Just in case you wonder why one moment in the dialogue seems so similar lol 
> 
> CW: stigma against sex work, some derogatory terms used in a non-malicious way, internalized ableism, food mention, alcohol mention

It’s embarrassing honestly. Charles tries to play it off like he doesn’t care at all, but it’s difficult being nearly thirty and never having had any sort of proper relationship. Perhaps if he’d been in his twenties when he’d had the accident that left him wheelchair bound, it wouldn’t be so bad. He’d have had experience by then, dates and sex. Perhaps that would have made him miss it even more, of course, but at least then he wouldn’t have to constantly wonder what he’s missing out on. Instead of respectably college aged, though, he’d been just barely 15. Old enough to have shared a few pecks with girls, but nothing ever serious and he certainly hadn’t lost his virginity by then. It’s frustrating to think he might end up alone forever because some wreckless driver had left him crippled. 

 

It’s harder to ignore the frustration when Moira is talking about her latest terrible date and Charles is sure it wasn’t fun, but at least it was a date and Charles has even lost track of what number boy this was.

 

“Really, Moira, if Matt being an annoying chewer is the worst of your problems, it’s not so big of a problem,” Charles insists. They’re out at a coffee shop near Columbia, having their monday morning latte - Moira - and earl grey - Charles - to catch up on the weekend gossip. Or more realistically, for Moira to tell Charles the weekend gossip, since his life isn’t really exciting enough to warrant any gossip.

 

“Mark,” she corrects. “And no, but it’s still annoying! Imagine having a boyfriend you can never go on dinner dates with.”

 

Charles lets out a frustrated groan, because ‘imagine a boyfriend’ is a stretch to begin with. “Then go off to one of the dozens of other men lined up to see you!”

 

“You’ve been in a terrible mood lately, you know? Is everything okay? We can talk about something else,” Moira offers.

 

“Yes, please.” He nods. “I’m not very keen on endlessly discussing your love life. No offence, darling, you know I quite care about you, but it only makes it painfully obvious how little I have to contribute.”

 

“Oh, Charles.” Moira sighs. “Have you been looking around? I could help you work on your online profiles, if you want.”

 

“I’m sure people will be tripping over themselves to get with the twenty eight year old virgin in a wheelchair,” Charles scoffs. In a huff, he adds another teaspoon of sugar to his tea. Enough bitterness in his life, his tea might as well be sweet. 

 

“That’s really not so big of a deal,” Moira insists. In her mind, though, she’s cringing because yes, having to deal with virginity awkwardness on top of navigating the disability would be a lot for someone probably just seeking out a casual relationship to close out their twenties.

 

Charles taps his temple and Moira at least has the decency to immediately turn an embarrassed shade of pink. “I know what people think when they see me out with you at clubs and that sort of thing. It’s a big deal, without the whole… virgin thing.” 

 

“If it’s sex you’re hung up about, you can always just go to a professional to get it out of the way. One less hang up and then maybe you’ll be more confident and the dating thing will work out,” Moira suggests. 

 

“A professional?” Charles repeats, arching a curious brow at her, because really, he has no idea if she means a graduate student who sleeps with a new person every weekend or some unsuspecting cripple fetishist who’s used to dealing with people who can’t get erect without a heavy dose of patience and Viagra. 

 

Moira nods. “Yeah, you know, like a sex worker.” 

 

“Moira!” he scolds. Charles wishes he hadn’t said anything at all and he glances around them quickly, making sure no one had overheard them. “You can’t just… say those things out in public. It’s indecent.” 

 

“Oh, grow up, Charles. What year do you think it is? 1962?” Moira rolls her eyes, seemingly unbothered by the possibility of being overheard. 

 

“No, but… it’s not appropriate. What sort of man do you think I am?” he asks, barely suppressing a grimace. He can’t help but think of middle aged men, gross and disrespectful, who can’t get any action except being a john. Charles’ sex life may be nonexistent, but he’s still not the type to hire a hooker. 

 

“One who’s clearly gotten all up in his head about something as silly as this,”  Moira says. “We wanted coffee this morning, we came to a coffee shop. If you want a ride somewhere after this, you’ll call an Uber. If the wheel on my bike pops off, I’ll take it to a bike shop. You want sex? Go get it.” 

 

“It’s not the same, Moira. Those things are all… different.” Charles tries to come up with some reason to give her, but he can’t think of anything that isn’t just parroting off stigma and prejudice he’s learned while growing up. Hookers are for lonely men on late nights, escorts are for rich socialite men with no time to build real relationships. Charles might be stuck in this chair and he might have a hard time finding anyone to be interested in him, but he’s not quite that desperate yet. 

 

“You’re just being all embarrassed and stuck up and you know it. At least give it a look,” she insists, pulling out her phone and opening a new tab on her browser. She’d forced to stop when Charles reaches over and slaps it out of her hands. Moira lets out an annoyed sigh and looks at him again. “What?” 

 

“‘Not here, at least. Call me a prude, but that’s not… decent. Let’s at least go somewhere private first,” he insists. 

 

Moira agrees, even if she still thinks it’s a bit ridiculous and puts her phone away once more. Charles doesn’t even want to know why she would even know where one finds a sex worker online. Sure, Charles knows you can find practically everything online, but he wouldn’t know where to start with this sort of thing. Even in his most desperate teenage years, he’d never quite gotten to the point of wanting to Google ‘disability friendly prostitutes near me’. He has standards. 

 

He veers their conversation back towards normal territory now, mostly complaining about their thesis advisors and insufferable undergraduate students in the intro classes they have to teach. Charles loves teaching, really, but the big 101 classes meant to weed out freshmen can be… challenging, even for the most kind hearted professor. Especially considering how difficult it is to get their respect, as a graduate student and wheelchair-bound. Moira simply doesn’t like teaching, much preferring she could skip ahead to the part where she has her doctorate and can coop herself up in lab and office work. Between that and the never ending pile of readings, there’s plenty to mutually vent about and the conversation never veers back towards sex and prostitutes. Charles thinks he might even be in the clear, that Moira won’t remember it at all. 

 

They settle in his office once they’re back on campus, since being accessible means it’s more spacious than Moira’s and they both have some time before they need to be anywhere. Charles is about to pull out some papers that need grading, but Moira is quicker than him and sets her laptop down on his desk, already open to some sort of escort website. Unfortunately, no, it doesn’t seem that she’s forgotten about their earlier conversation. Charles is still horrifically embarrassed, but at least now they’re safely hidden away in his office. 

 

“It’s simple these days, you see? Set the parameters you want, scroll through, pick the one you like, and send a message. No more complicated than online shopping,” Moira says, pulling up a chair to sit next to him. 

 

Charles grimaces. “It feels gross, though, doesn’t it?” 

 

“Only if you’re going to be gross about it. This is a job. They’re professionals and you’re a client. Simple as that. They just happen to work in something more taboo than usual.” Moira shrugs and moves the cursor to the ‘Settings’ bar on top. “First things first: search for men, women, or both?” 

 

“Men, I suppose?” Charles answers. It feels a little bit less exploitative than hiring a woman, though Charles knows he’s just projecting more of his own stigma onto these people. 

 

Moira nods and asks him for his preference a few more times, things such as age, height, position, eye color, hair color, build. Charles answers that he really doesn’t care for all of them, save for age, when he specifies he would feel much more comfortable if this poor lad is at least 25. It doesn’t narrow the pool too much and when Moira pushes the laptop towards him so he can scroll, Charles feels rather overwhelmed by the whole thing. Moira, at least, seems to have realized her joking is getting them nowhere, and has quieted down, only making the occasional comment on the men she finds most attractive or piping in when he needs help figuring out the website. 

 

A terribly anti climatic twenty minutes later, Charles has narrowed it down to five men. Anyone with their cock out in the profile picture he’d discarded, finding it a touch too intimidating, and anyone with bigotry in their tag lines he’d also immediately discarded. He has no need for such things. That leaves five tabs open, five men who might very well be taking his virginity sometime soon. Charles hasn’t decided if he’ll actually go through with it, but he’s gone this far already. Charles flips through the tabs a few times, before lingering on Erik L. He’s a handsome man, tall and well built without being the sort of hulking brawn that borders on off putting. Charles knows the pictures he’s set on his profile are probably the very best posed pictures of him, with a fair bit of editing, but Charles is still struck by his green eyes and the curls he spots in the only picture without copious hair styling, one of Erik climbing out of a pool, in a pair of absurdly short blue trunks that cling to his thigh as water drips off his body. Wonderfully, he’s also 29, a year older than Charles, making it one less thing he has to feel creepy about. His blurb is endearing as well, if perhaps a bit political. 

 

_ I’m the radical separatist mutant Jew your mothers warned you about. Unless you need a Nice Jewish Boy to accompany you to your little cousin’s bar mitzvah so Aunt Becca will stop asking when you’ll finally marry, in which case, I can be the nicest NJB around.  _

 

_ Poland born, Germany raised, New York until I get jaded enough to fuck off back to Europe. Fluent in 7 languages, yes I can talk to you dirty in a foreign language, yes I will probably read off my grocery list in German.  _

 

_ Able to both host and travel, unless we’ve already met and I’ve vetted you properly, need at least 24 hours notice.  _

 

_ Open to most anything. SSC if you’re new, RACK if we’ve seen each other before and you’ve proven trustworthy. _

 

_ Mutants take priority in case of a schedule conflict. Visible mutations and non xtians get a discounted rate. If you’re a human goy and don’t like it, go soothe yourself with your 59% lower incarceration rates ( _ _ source _ _ ) and 24% higher job acceptance rate ( _ _ source _ _ ). Cheers. _

 

“You obviously like him, send him a message,” Moira says, nudging him gently.  

 

“I don’t know… I’ll think about it, perhaps,” Charles says. He moves the cursor up to x out of the page, but can’t quite bring himself to finish the job. 

 

“None of that. You don’t have to commit, just start planning it out. I know you, if you don’t message now, you never will. Just get it over with.” Moira bats his hand away and goes down to click on Erik’s interest form. When it’s loaded, she stands up and moves over to the futon at the other end of his office, where she pulls out her phone and gets comfortable to fiddle on it a while. “I’ll give you some privacy while you fill it out.” 

 

Charles sighs. This is a losing battle he knows, and to be perfectly honest, he is interested, even if it makes him feel like a pervert. He needs more caffeine for this, he decides, and after setting some more tea to brew, he settles himself more comfortably as he skims the form. It’s straightforward enough, though Charles is sure there’s some sort of unspoken rules or codes about these things that he doesn’t know. Who knows? Perhaps this is all an elaborate sting operation by the police. Oh well. At least Charles has enough money to deal with the court fees if that’s what this is. Once his tea is done, he sets it next to the laptop and types up answers. 

 

**Preferred Name/Pronouns:** Charles he/him/his

 

**Time Requested** : 4 Hours

 

**Host or Travel:** Host

 

**Mutant?:** Yes

 

**Service Requested:** I don’t know if you’re supposed to just say sex or imply it on these things but um… sex? 

 

**Kinks, if applicable:** Unsure

 

**Hard and Soft Limits:** Unsure

 

**Anything else I should know?:** I’m in a wheelchair with no motor skills and limited feeling below the waist. My apartment and bedroom are fully accessible, but I can’t say for sure what I might be missing in terms of actual sexual activities. I’m willing and able to buy any missing accessories if it seems necessary, and to simply reschedule and pay you for the time lost the first go around. I’m also a telepath and while I am very well controlled, I can’t speak for how my powers might react during sexual activity and ask for your patience in that. - Best, Charles

 

Charles leaves his contact information in the last few lines and hits send before he can talk himself any more out of it. He closes all the tabs, and deletes the last hour of browsing history for good measure, before shutting it all down. “There, it’s all done. Are you happy now?” 

 

“Very,” Moira agrees, standing up to grab her laptop once more. “I should probably head to my own office if I want to get any actual work done. Give me a call if anything, yeah?” 

 

“Of course, love. I’ll see you around,” Charles says, waving goodbye to her and finally - finally! - getting to the papers he’s been meaning to grade. 

 

It’s easy to get back to the flow of a normal day, getting work done, teaching his classes, doing his research. He almost forgets that he’s reached out to some… escort? Rent boy? He can’t say for sure what he’s gotten into, but he’s gone and paid for sex, that’s undeniable. It probably says a lot more about him than Erik, to be fair. Charles is in desperate need to not think about it for a while, and at the very least, academic work makes it easy to lose himself for a while. By the time he’s getting back to his apartment in the evening, he’s almost forgotten about the whole thing. Enough that he’s mildly surprised when he opens his phone and finds a text from an unknown number. 

 

_ [sms] Hi, Charles. It’s Erik. Is this the right number? Give me a text when you get a chance, want to work out the last few details. _

 

It takes Charles approximately two seconds to open the text, read it, remember the events of this morning, and turn bright red in embarrassment. Somehow, he’d thought he would have more time before it had to feel any more real. What’s the appropriate response for such a text? Is he supposed to respond right away? Give it some time so he doesn’t look overly eager? This might actually be worse than trying to find a date, honestly. At least in finding a date, Charles could text Raven or Moira for some advice without feeling horribly creepy about the whole thing. It should be fine with Moira, seeing as she talked him into this in the first place, but he can’t bring himself to do it, anyway. 

 

He decides waiting a few minutes is probably fine. If Erik needs a reply soon, he won’t be kept waiting too long, but it won’t look like Charles is just sitting around staring at his phone and waiting to hear from somebody. It’s probably the only decent option he has, given that Charles is so out of his element in such a thing. If he’d never had the accident, he would have probably been dragged into such things or other similar indecent ventures by his stepfather and socialite peers, but from the second he’d woken up in the hospital, it had been like he’d become a child again, incapable of having any interest in the sort of things teenagers tended to do. It’s frustrating, but there’s nothing to be done about it. Charles has been in this chair for more than a decade. He’s made his peace with it. Almost. 

 

Charles reheats some leftovers, since he doesn’t want to deal with cooking tonight, and transfers himself onto his couch so he can have dinner and some wine from the couch and coffee table, where his back is much more comfortable than at his dining table. There are some perks to living alone and having no one around to make an effort for is certainly one of them. Finally, when he’s had a few sips of wine to mellow himself out, Charles takes his phone out once more to text Erik back. 

 

_ [sms] Hello, Erik, thank you for such a speedy reply. This is Charles,  yes. What final details are you in need of?  _

 

There. That doesn’t sound so bad. It’s as normal as something in this situation can be, he thinks. Charles puts his phone aside and reaches to start eating, but he’s only managed a spoonful or two when his phone dings with a message again. Charles knows he should probably just eat and handle all of this after, but he’s not quite strong enough to ignore such temptation and he puts his food to the side once more to pick up his phone. 

 

_ [sms] Great :) I was looking at the availability you marked down and I’m free Wednesday evening, if you’d like. I was thinking 6-10?  _

 

_ [sms] Oh, that’s sooner than I expected, but it’ll work yes.  _

 

_ [sms] It can be another day, if you’d prefer. I’m also free Sunday night, as well as next Monday. _

 

_ [sms] No, Wednesday will work, thank you.  _

 

_ [sms] Perfect, I’ll jot you down in the calendar, then. Venmo me half to elehnsherr7 when you get a chance and the rest after our session. Looking forward to it, Charles. _

 

_ [sms] Thank you, Erik. See you Wednesday.  _

 

Charles receives one more message from Erik, a shot of Erik posed shirtless, naked maybe, in a mirror, cut off just at the v of his hips before Charles can see anything more intimate. He’s so flustered by that, he simply sends back a thumbs up emoji like some kind of idiot and venmos him the full fare in one go. His dinner has gone cold by now, so Charles tosses his phone over to the other couch before he can make an even bigger fool of himself and focuses on just eating and drinking his wine, like somewhere in the city, there isn’t an attractive mutant sex worker most definitely laughing at him. It’s fine. 

 

Totally fine. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is longer than the norm. Enjoy. 
> 
> CW: alcohol mention, sex, stigma against sex workers, internalized ableism, internalized body shaming

The more he gets into it, the more Charles realizes he has absolutely no idea how any of this is supposed to work. Is he supposed to get his house all cleaned up and ready for company for Wednesday? Or should he act very casual about it all? Like there’s nothing strange about an escort spending Wednesday evening in his home. Neither seems a very good option, but in the end, Charles decides he would rather have the house all done up well for company than come off as a slob, so he spends Tuesday night clearing up his house so Wednesday afternoon when he comes back in from his classes, he can spend an hour laying in his bed trying to calm himself instead of rushing about making last minute preparations. 

 

Charles ends up laying a bit too long and is startled out of the panic he’s worked himself into by a knock at the door. He checks the time and, fuck, it’s a few minutes to six, he should be in the living room ready to open the door, or at least, he should have emptied his bladder by now, but there’s nothing to be done about it now, so Charles calls out that he’ll be there in a moment and makes quick work of transferring himself onto his chair. He pauses briefly at his mirror, to smooth his hair out and make sure he looks half decent. It’s silly, probably, but even if he is hiring a sex worker, Charles still doesn’t want to look the part. He wheels himself to the door after, pleased to see he hasn’t made Erik wait too long, and reaches to open the door and promptly wheel out of the way so Erik can step inside. 

 

“You must be Charles,” Erik says, smiling politely down at him. “I’m Erik.” 

 

And goodness. He’s even more handsome in person. Charles can see why he’d go into this line of work. If Charles looked like Erik and had a working cock and legs, he’d probably do the same and charge a few thousand for every visit. Erik could probably get away with it. Even the unflattering fluorescent lighting of the hallway comes off like some sort of godly aura around him. Charles isn’t sure how he’d expected him to be dressed, but respectably slim fit chinos and a black turtleneck wouldn’t have been his first guess. He knows by now not to expect this to be like some episode of Law and Order, but it’s more professional an outfit than he would have expected. 

 

Charles’ eyes follow him as he steps inside, carrying a small duffel bag with him. He can’t fathom what it might be, perhaps he’s a serial killer after all and his collection of knives is inside, but Charles hasn’t been very concerned about others harming him since he gained control of his telepathy. He could stop most anyone with just a thought and besides, it would probably be a favor to be murdered by a man as painfully attractive as Erik. Charles realizes now, a little too late, that he’s been gawking in silence like an idiot, instead of replying. Embarrassed, Charles closes up the door and wheels towards the couch so Erik can sit and be more comfortable. 

 

“Yes, I’m Charles. Lovely to meet you, Erik. Would you like anything? There’s coffee, tea, wine, beer, water. A speedy grocery delivery service if you have more specific tastes,” he offers. Are you supposed to offer beverages to the escort who’s going to take your virginity? Charles isn’t so sure, but being hospitable never hurts. 

 

Erik sets his bag down next to the couch and as he sits down, he laughs softly. “Some tea would be lovely, thank you. If you show me about the kitchen, I can make it.” 

 

“No, no, don’t be silly. You’re the guest, I’ll get it,” Charles says, wheeling off to the kitchen area. Thankfully, it’s an open space layout, and he can still see Erik as he sets a kettle of water to boil. “Any particular flavor?” 

 

“Hmm. Something black and strong,” Erik answers, angling himself on the sofa so he can see Charles as he makes their tea. 

 

It’s probably not a very comfortable way to sit, but perhaps Erik feels he can’t sit in anyway that suggests he might be ignoring him, seeing as Charles is paying for his company. Would some other customer be fussy about such a thing? Charles isn’t sure. It makes him acutely aware of the fact that Erik is currently being paid to be here, though, and he finishes getting both their mugs ready in awkward silence. He takes them both to the coffee table to steep, with the practiced ease of balancing things on his lap that means he doesn’t spill any of it on the way, despite Erik’s barely muted concern. 

 

“There you are,” he murmurs, setting a mug down in front of Erik and then simply parking his chair in the empty spot he has among his couches and loveseats for just this reason. He’d normally transfer himself onto the couch, but sometimes, new company can get a bit uncomfortable seeing himself hauling himself about from place to place. 

 

“Thank you,” Erik says, picking up his mug to have a sniff, but otherwise leaving it to steep. “How would you like to go about this? Usually, I let the customer take lead of it all, but I kind of get the feeling you’d appreciate a bit of guidance.” 

 

Charles blushes, because of course, it’s painfully obvious how out of element he is. He reaches up to fiddle with his collar uncomfortably and nods, looking anywhere but Erik. “Yes… I’ve never… done this sort of thing before.” 

 

“I got the vibes,” Erik agrees, sliding closer to where Charles is sat. “All right. I’ll ask you a few things just to get a feel for the situation, you feel free to ask as much as you want, and then when you’re comfortable, feel free to take a hold of the reigns. Sound good? Good. Now, when you say you’ve never done this sort of thing before, I take it you mean sex in general, not just buying it, but could you be a bit more specific? People tend to define sex very differently, after all.” 

 

“Yes… Well, I’ve snogged a few people here and there, of course, with the occasional drunken heavy petting. But my accident happened when I was 15 and after, people weren’t exactly lining up to have sex with a cripple. I’d say… If it involves being naked below the belt, I haven’t done it,” he explains. There’s a tinge of bitterness to it all, of course, but Charles is remarkably proud with himself for how he keeps it together. These are difficult things to speak about, but Erik has a general aura to him that he won’t judge him about any of it, and though Charles isn’t in Erik’s mind currently, there isn’t anything jumping out at him to suggest that Erik is silently judging him, either. 

 

“That’s silly. You’re very handsome. A disability doesn’t change that,” Erik says, reaching forward to take a gentle hold of Charles’ chin and tilt his head up once more. “I want to kiss you. Is that okay?” 

 

Charles nods wordlessly and before he can think about it too much, Erik leans forward and presses their lips together. It’s very simple and chaste, not immediately sexual like Charles might have expected, but it’s lovely really. There’s something incredibly masculine about Erik, and Charles had naturally assumed every bit of him would be equally rough and masculine, but he’s pleased to find that Erik has soft lips and an equally soft touch as he moves his hand on Charles’ waist. He pulls back after a moment, smiling at him. 

 

“Thank you. Is it okay if I put my hand here?” Erik asks, hovering a hand atop Charles’ knee until Charles gives him permission to put it down. 

 

“Yes. Thank you. You’re being very… very lovely. I’m sure this sort of thing must be horribly tedious and embarrassing for you,” Charles says. 

 

Erik shakes his head and, somehow, even Charles thinks its earnest. “Not at all. I’m honored you’d trust me with this sort of thing. What were you hoping for tonight? I’m very open to most things.” 

 

“Um… Just, like, proper sex, I suppose?” Charles winces immediately after he’s said it, because he knows it must sound ridiculous. “I mean, penetration and that sort.” 

 

“Proper sex is whatever you want it to be, Charles. But we can do penetration, of course. Anal, I presume?” Erik asks. 

 

This is his job, of course, so Charles isn’t surprised that he’s so comfortable talking about such things, but it still embarasses him. “Yes. Is it… Is it alright if we press pause on this for a moment? I’m a bit embarrassed about it all. I know it’s childish, but… I just need a moment, that’s all.” 

 

“Of course, of course. Take all the time you need.” Erik reaches forward to take hold of his mug now that the tea is steeped and takes a sip. 

 

Charles does the same and then, to keep them from sitting here in endless, awkward silence, he asks, “So you’re a mutant, yes? What sort?” 

 

“Electromagnetism,” Erik answers. To demonstrate, a metal decorative piece over in the corner floats a few feet up the floor and bends itself out of shape before getting back to how it’s meant to be and settling on the floor again. “To put it simply, I can control metal and magnetic fields.” 

 

“That’s brilliant. I’m a telepath, as I mentioned. My sister is a shapeshifter,” Charles says, and he really does find it fascinating. This is what his thesis work is all based on, after all. He doesn’t mention that, though, lest Erik feel like he’s been roped here as a science experiment. 

 

“Very cool. I have a sister, as well. Human, though her son tested positive for the X-gene. Too young to have manifested, though,” Erik explains.

 

It feels strangely intimate to be talking about family with someone he’ll be having paid sex with soon, so Charles decides to change the topic, gesturing to the bag Erik brought with him. “What did you bring along with you? It’s fine, of course, I’m just curious as to what four hours would merit bringing along.” 

 

“It’s mostly supplies. Lube and condoms and all that. There’s a cushion, as well, that some of my clients in the past have found makes things much more comfortable, especially the ones with mobility issues,” Erik explains, reaching over and pulling out some triangular sort of cushion. 

 

“That’s very thoughtful of you, thank you.” It reminds Charles once again that Erik is a professional between them and Charles should probably just follow his lead in these sorts of things. Erik doesn’t seem the type to let Charles just quietly go along and pass all the decisions on to Erik. Charles clears his throat, as if it might help him regain his confidence instead of make him feel more foolish, and sips at his tea once more. “So… I suppose you should be on top?” 

 

“Should be?” Erik echoes back to him, looking at him curiously. 

 

“I mean, look at yourself! You’re tall and masculine and built and all that. You’re the sort that does the topping, from what I’ve gathered,” Charles says, shrugging. He’s slightly embarrassed, but come on. Anyone with eyes could look at Erik and see where he’s meant to be. 

 

Erik scoffs, though not unkindly. “Sex is about having fun, Charles, not following arbitrary rules. There’s no automatic sorting of people based on how they look. Would you like to bottom? Because if you would, for reasons independent of what you think you’re meant to be doing, I’ll happily top you. But only if it’s what you really want.” 

 

“Oh.” Charles thinks about it for a few moments, really thinking it through instead of trying to simply assume what’s more appropriate for a man like him to do. Finally, he shakes his head. “No, I don’t think I’d like to bottom. So… Well, you’ll do that? Really?” 

 

“Of course,” he agrees, nodding. Erik reaches forward and squeezes Charles’ knee gently. “It’s okay if I do that, right? Even if you can’t really feel it?” 

 

“Yes, it’s all right. It’s… sort of cute, really. Most people tend to avoid my legs entirely, like paralysis is contagious and they’ll lose all use of their legs if they even get near mine.” Charles rolls his eyes. He hesitates briefly and adds, “I’ll have no idea what I’m doing. With the topping thing, by the way. I can’t really… I mean, I can’t really move my hips, so. A bit complicated, perhaps.” 

 

“We’ll figure it out,” Erik promises. “I’ll walk you through it, we’ll go as slow as we need, and I’ll ride you, if you like.” 

 

Charles lets himself imagine Erik naked and atop of him, riding his cock with no doubt well practiced ease. It leaves him bright red a second later and he tries to think of anything else to will away the flush. “That sounds nice. I think… Perhaps we can head over to my room now? As unsexy as it is, I’m afraid I have to head to the bathroom first, but feel free to leave your mug there when you’re done and get yourself settled. My room is the second door on the left.” 

 

He wheels off after that, to his bathroom so he can make sure that no matter how awkward the night might be, it won’t be made any worse because he pisses on Erik or something similar. He should have done this earlier, honestly, and Charles feels horrifically awkward having to deal with his bladder and bowels while Erik is just a few doors away, but it’s better than the alternative at least. When he’s done, Charles washes up again and goes into his bedroom once more. Erik is there now, sitting at the edge of his bed as he settles the cushion by the head of the bed and sets lube and condoms on the dresser. 

 

“Hey,” he says easily, looking over at Charles. “You can come sit or lay down. Or stay in your chair, if that’s more comfortable for you. I’ll get off the bed, too, if you want. It’s all up to you.”

 

“No, no, don’t be silly. Stay where you are. I’ll join you on the bed.” Charles parks his chair by the bed and transfers himself onto the mattress. It’s a movement he does several times a day, but it feels much more significant now that there’s someone on the bed waiting to have sex with him. 

 

Once Charles is settled, Erik shifts closer to him. “We’ll take it slow, okay? Slow as we need to. Speak up about anything you need or want, okay? Anything at all.” 

 

He nods and after another moment of nervous hesitation, Charles leans closer to kiss Erik properly. It shouldn’t make him so nervous. They’ve already agreed to this, after all, and Erik already kissed him earlier, but Charles still feels awkward about the whole thing. He half expects Erik to go back on their agreement any second now, to decide Charles’ trouble isn’t worth the money and just go home or to find another client. But Erik doesn’t recoil or pull back or get up to leave. He simply leans in to Charles, kissing him back so earnestly that if Charles didn’t know better, he might have thought there was something real about all this. As they kiss, Charles’ hand finds itself at the hem of Erik’s sweater almost of its own accord, and he pauses only because he’s sure Erik would ask him before continuing and he wants to extend the same courtesy. 

 

“Is it okay… Is it okay if I take your shirt off?” Charles asks, hooking his thumb under the edge of it and gently stroking the skin there. 

 

“Of course, baby.” Erik nods, moving back enough for Charles to easily pull the shirt off and cast it off to the side. “Can I start undressing you, too?” 

 

Charles nods breathlessly, mostly just caught up with having Erik shirtless and in front of him. He’s seen plenty of bare chests in his life, of course, but only rarely so close and in his bed. Charles is tempted to run his hand along Erik’s waist and find out if the lines of his waist feel as defined as they look. After a second of staring, that almost certainly makes him look like an idiot, he realizes that he actually can touch. So naturally, Charles reaches forward, slowly, because he suspects if he tries to go fast his hand will just tremble about uselessly, and runs the pad of his fingers just barely along Erik’s chest. And yes, Charles is happy to find that Erik’s skin and muscles are just as pleasant to touch as they are to look at. 

 

It’s not as though he’s a weak little thing. He’s had to develop a fair amount of core and upper body strength to navigate the world from his chair. But it’s never quite been the lean and defined sort of perfection Erik has. Charles knows he has nothing to be ashamed off, but as Erik continues and helps Charles get him out of his trousers, he can’t help but dread when his own clothes have to come off. He’s not surprised that every new bit of Erik being revealed is as perfect as the last. He’s sure his own body will seem grotesque compared to Erik, all but disfigured from lack of use on the bottom half and with his love handles and tummy instead of Erik’s lines and edges. 

 

“You’ll put me to shame, looking like that,” Charles says, laughing awkwardly. 

 

Erik lets his hand stop and linger after unbuttoning only the first few inches of Charles’ shirt. He shakes his head and leans forward to kiss Charles’ cheek. “Don’t be silly. You’re very sexy, look at you. But if you’d be more comfortable staying partially clothed, we can do that, too.” 

 

“No. No, I’ll be okay. Just… a bit embarrassed, that’s all. But that was inevitable, really.” He shrugs. 

 

“Nothing to be embarrassed about,” Erik insists.

 

His kisses move down to Charles neck and Charles lets himself be distracted by thinking of how nice that feels instead of Erik continuing to unbutton his shirt and get it off his shoulders. It’s not as though Erik would tell him if he found him ugly or repulsive, of course. That wouldn’t be very good for business. So Charles knows that there’s not a lot to be said about Erik saying he’s sexy or that there’s nothing to be ashamed of, but at least trying to focus on that instead of anything else is as good an excuse as any. 

 

They resettle a bit again once the both of them are down to their boxers, so that Charles leans up against the headboard with the cushion supporting his back and Erik is straddled upon his hips. He still feels awkward and ashamed about this whole ordeal, but he’s beginning to think it might just be worth it for the pleasure of getting someone as beautiful as Erik on top of him like this. This would definitely never happen under normal circumstances, if they had met out at a club or something instead of through Erik’s booking website. Perhaps Charles can get over his own moral discomfort for the sake of getting Greek gods like Erik in his bed. Perhaps it’s better to have a manufactured love life than none at all. 

 

Erik kisses him for a while, all over his neck and shoulders, getting a sense for what parts of him are most sensitive and what spots and movements get him the most reaction. Charles knows he should probably reciprocating or touching him or getting him ready or doing anything at all that isn’t just lay there uselessly and let Erik service him, but he can’t quite bring his mind or body to cooperate with him, so they’ll all just have to be content with this slightly useless version of Charles. He gets enough sense for his hands to wander a few minutes, tracing the muscles of Erik’s back and caressing his hips before reaching one of his hands down inside the back of Erik’s briefs and cupping his ass while they kiss. Charles thinks it’s a good start to being a somewhat decent partner instead of just laying there. And then, of course, Erik leans down to bite gently at Charles’ nipple, which might just be the best thing Charles has felt since he found out his favorite tea from back in Oxford would start shipping to America and he goes absolutely useless again. He lets out a soft little yelp and jerks his hands back, causing the waistband of Erik’s shorts to snap against Erik’s waist. Charles wishes the car crash that left him paralysed would retroactively kill him, so he could be saved from this ever having happened. 

 

Predictably, Erik just laughs softly and grins up at him. “You like that, baby?” 

 

“I’ve found my upper body has grown increasingly sensitive since the accident,” Charles says, which is sort of an answer, he supposes. 

 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he promises, nipping at his chest once more, which gets just as embarrassing a reaction as the first time. 

 

Charles is going to die at Erik’s hands, it seems, and he can’t quite say he’s upset about it. 

 

Charles lets it continue like this for a few more minutes, with Erik kissing and nipping all along his shoulders and chest, before he decides if they stay like this much longer, he might end up chickening out of actually doing anything else. So he reaches up to tug on Erik’s hair gently, easing him off his neck. “Erik,” he says, breathless. He needs another moment to gather his breath and then, blushing, he asks, “I think I’d very much like to fuck you now. If that’s okay.” 

 

“You’re so cute. Of course it’s okay,” Erik laughs, leaning up to kiss him. “I’ll fetch the lube and two condoms. I can get myself ready, but if you’d rather give it a go, I can walk you through it.” 

 

“I think… I think I’d like to try,” Charles decides, although he’s so nervous he might end up trembling too much to work his hands properly. 

 

Erik nods and kisses him once more before leaning over towards the counter to pick up their supplies. Charles gets to watch appreciatively how Erik’s muscles ripple under his skin when he stretches over, far more attractive than anyone has any business being. When Erik sits up properly again, he shows Charles the lube and the making of it, so he can see it’s nothing that will interfere dangerously with the condoms or their bodies. It’s nothing Charles would have thought of checking on his own, so he’s glad he picked someone as sensible as Erik that would look out for such a thing. Erik wiggles out of his boxers and Charles tries not to stare too obviously at this cock, because he feels that would be rude, even given the circumstances. Still, Charles is only human and who wouldn’t get a glance at someone as beautiful as Erik, given the circumstances? 

 

He’s half hard already, which Charles writes off to his professionalism, because he certainly hasn’t been anything worth getting aroused over. Charles might have assumed someone in this line of work would be like a porn star, but Erik is… he’s quite average, honestly, if perhaps on the thicker side, and it eases Charles’ nerves somewhat. At the very least not every inch of Erik is superhuman. (Though Charles still thinks Erik might have the prettiest circumcision scar possible, even if he doesn’t have very much to compare it to.) If nothing else, it’s at least enough to ease him up long enough that he helps Erik with the complicated task of getting him out of his briefs while they’re laying there. It’s fairly more complicated, since he can’t move his legs, but they manage it somehow. 

 

He’s still soft, which… isn’t a surprise, really. It takes a lot of effort and a little luck to get him hard these days. Lest Erik think it’s a sign of disinterest, Charles says, “It usually needs, um, direct stimulation to get erect. Just… being in the mood doesn’t really get the job done these days.” 

 

“No problem,” Erik promises, leaning in to kiss him until Charles’ latest wave of embarrassment has passed. Charles isn’t sure if Erik is entirely aware that his kisses are calming him down, but it’s certainly doing the trick, which is really all that matters at the end of the day. When he’s calmed down again, Erik diverts their attention away from Charles and his non-functioning cock, instead uncapping the lube and passing it to Charles. “Here. If you’d like, I’ll shift around on my knees and shoulders while you get me ready. Make it a little easier for the both of us, yeah?” 

 

Charles nods wordlessly, since it’s not like any of this is his area of expertise anyway. Erik gives his hand a squeeze and then moves off his hips, shifting about onto his hands and knees and then leaning down low to rest his shoulders and cheek on the mattress while his ass is angled towards Charles. It is, to be honest, the nicest ass Charles has ever seen, copious amount of porn in his teenage years included. Perhaps there’s something about the person being there, flesh and blood in front of him, that makes it significantly better than anything in porn. It might also have something to do with the warm sort of stirring in Charles’ belly from seeing Erik presenting himself so prettily for Charles. He knows this is a job for Erik, and that he’d be like this for anyone who booked him and requested such a thing, but it’s nice to pretend that this is all just for him and that Erik is here because he wants Charles to fuck him and not because Charles has paid him to be here. 

 

Erik gives him a few directions, but Charles thinks he can probably figure this sort of thing out with a bit of common sense. Hopefully. He pours some lube out on his fingers, and some directly onto Erik’s hole at his suggestion, and then takes a deep breath to center himself. He shouldn’t be so nervous, considering he’s not the one about to get fingered and fucked by a shaky, inexperienced grad student, but he is, nonetheless. He hopes Erik is used to seeing this sort of nervousness, and that he won’t find him utterly ridiculous for it. He probably will. Charles would. But at least he’s polite enough not to mention it. Charles runs his thumb along Erik’s entrance, relishing in the pleased little sigh Erik lets out. Maybe he won’t be completely terrible. Just 75% or so terrible. 

 

Carefully, probably more slowly than Erik would have gone, Charles eases his middle finger into him. It’s not quite the resistance he’d imagined fingering a man’s ass would be, but it is tight and warm and Charles knows he won’t really be able to feel it, but God he wishes he could and the thought alone sends a shiver down his spine. He stays still a moment too long, afraid of hurting Erik if he does anything at all, but Erik murmurs some encouragement and Charles starts moving again, easing the way for a second finger so he can scissor them inside him. He has no sense at all of how stretched out is stretched out enough. It’s not as though he has some sort of porn star cock either, but he wants Erik to be comfortable. Especially since Charles won’t really have any reliable sense for how tight he is around his cock once he’s gotten inside him. Hopefully, Erik will let him know. 

 

“You’re doing good, baby,” Erik promises, moaning softly when Charles eases another finger into him. “If you want, you can, mmm, you can move around a little more confidently in there, okay? I won’t break.” 

 

Charles blushes and nods, which only makes him blush more, because Erik’s head is up against the mattress right now and his eyes are closed, so it’s not as though he can see him nod anyway. Out loud he says, “I will. Let me know how much is enough or too much or not enough, okay?” 

 

He waits for Erik to agree before he resumes, keeping the three fingers in place, but moving them around more inside Erik now. Would he feel this hopelessly lost if he’d done this before? Or is trying to figure out everyone’s body always a bit of a nightmare at first? Whichever it is, he’s glad that Erik is patient, because Charles really has no clue where he’s supposed to be headed or what he’s supposed to be doing and he only sort of guesses that he’s found Erik’s prostate when Erik moans loudly and his cock gives a valiant little twitch between his legs. Charles feels a strange sort of pride in knowing he made Erik feel good like that. 

 

Charles continues, repeating the things that get moans and twitches from Erik and trying to avoid things that don’t seem to get much of a reaction. Erik was probably ready for more a while earlier, Erik suspects, but Charles is clearly gaining some much needed confidence in this and it’s a few more minutes before he signals to Charles that he’s stretched out enough. Charles pulls his fingers out of Erik and wipes his fingers off on the bedsheet. He should have probably set down a towel, but oh well. He supposes he’ll just have to change the sheets later. 

 

Erik grabs a condom and rolls it on himself before turning his attention to Charles, who’s still soft. “Do you want me to get you hard? Or would you feel more comfortable doing it yourself?” 

 

“I think, I think I’ll do it. It’s just all a bit useless anyway,” he mumbles, reaching down to stroke himself a few times. 

 

It’s a mechanical movement mostly, to be honest. He has… some sort of feeling around his upper thighs and genitals, but it feels distant and far away, like he’s half asleep, numb, and underwater all at the same time. It’s not terrible, of course, and it is sort of nice, but it’s really nothing Charles would go out of his way for if he were alone. Thankfully, his cock seems to be in some sort of mood to cooperate today and grows hard under his palm. Charles says a quiet prayer to whoever invented Viagra and reaches for the second condom to put it on himself. 

 

“Good to go?” Erik asks, pulling him in for a kiss as he straddles him once more. 

 

Charles nods. He lets his hands rest on Erik’s hips, if only because holding onto something makes it easier to keep them from shaking with nerves. “Yes, I am. And you?” 

 

“Perfect,” he promises, reaching down between them to help Charles line his cock up against his entrance and then easing down slowly to take him in. 

 

Charles is sure Erik’s done this God knows how many times, but fuck if he doesn’t manage to make Charles feel special about it anyway. Logically, Charles knows there’s absolutely nothing different about him now than a few minutes ago just because he’s got his cock up someone’s ass. He won’t sprout wings all of a sudden or go around with a big sign on his head that says ‘ _ it’s finally happened, Charles Xavier had sex’.  _ But he feels much better than he did before. Almost like he’s normal, like he’s got two working legs and can climb a set of stairs and kick a football around with his uni mates. It’s hormones talking and making him think ridiculous things, he knows, but fuck, he’s going to enjoy it while it lasts. 

 

He muffles a moan, as though showing he’s enjoying this will make it any more embarrassing than it already is, and lets his head fall back against the headboard. It seems like almost too much effort to hold his neck up now when Erik is warm and snug around him, enough that even Charles can feel it, even if vaguely. He’d much rather just close his eyes and enjoy it. Erik seems to take that as a sign that things are going well and leans down to resume kissing Charles’ neck while he starts to rock his hips. 

 

“Good? Everything you’d hoped for?” Erik asks, biting just below Charles’ collarbone. It’ll leave a mark, probably, but Charles is so sensitive there and it feels so good, he can’t really bring himself to care. 

 

He nods. “It’s fantastic. Fuck. I wish I could fuck you properly.” 

 

“You are fucking me properly,” Erik promises. But, of course, he’s not a total idiot. He knows what Charles means. So he reaches between them and encourages Charles’ hands to hold onto his hips more firmly. “There. You can guide me.” 

 

Charles opens his eyes, because he decides now that he wants to see it all, if he can’t feel it all. It’s the best decision he’s made in years, probably, because Erik is gorgeous. Charles knew that already, of course, but there is an ever present caveman in the back of his mind and that caveman thinks that Erik is even more gorgeous with Charles’ cock inside him. And his thighs… Charles has never spent much time admiring men’s thighs, but now as he watches how Erik’s tighten and flex while rocking on him, he really thinks that might have been a huge mistake. He’s not really sure what he’s doing, but he decides maybe caring a little less is the key to it all and he simply holds onto Erik firmly while he guides his hips to keep fucking himself on Charles. He’s sure Erik is still doing all of the work, even if he’s letting Charles believe he has a role in it. 

 

If it were up to him, they’d keep this up forever. Or at least as close to forever as is reasonable for two men to last in their late twenties. Unfortunately, Charles’ body seems to have other plans for the night. Charles notices first, or maybe Erik is polite enough that he pretends not to notice. But after another minute or two, it’s really undeniable how he’s grown soft. No matter how polite Erik is, he can’t pretend not to notice that riding him isn’t really working out anymore, since Charles has slipped out of him in the process of growing soft again. 

 

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m sorry. I…” Charles sighs. “I’m sorry. It’s not you, really. It does that sometimes.” 

 

“It’s okay, baby. Happens to the best of us,” Erik promises, giving him a kiss before he can apologize again. “We can finish off another way, unless you’d rather just call it a night.” 

 

“You came all this way. I feel bad just sort of… ruining it,” Charles mumbles. But to be honest, he doesn’t want to try much of anything else right now. He doesn’t regret having hired Erik for the evening and having him over, but he does feel like a bit of a wreck now. How bad does he have to be at this sort of thing that he can be with a literal professional and still manage to make a fool of them both. 

 

“It’s not a ruin. Come on. We’ll have a nice cuddle. You’ve still got me for another two and a half hours. If you decide you want to give it another go, we will. If not, we’ll have had a nice spooning, yeah?” Erik suggests. 

 

Charles nods, not because he’s particularly keen on spooning with this poor man whose night he’s almost certainly just ruined, but because he can’t think of anything better and he’s already paid. It would be rude to cut the night short and ask for the money back. Not that Charles can’t afford to lose some money. He just thinks Erik might feel awkward having money for two hours he didn’t actually spend with him. So he just agrees and lets Erik rearrange them so he’s laid up behind Erik, pressed up against his back. It’s a bit difficult to spoon with no control over his lower half, particularly when he’s trying to be the big spoon to someone significantly taller than him, but if Erik is uncomfortable, he does a good job not showing it. 

 

He sighs, accepting defeat for the night and perhaps for this lifetime. Maybe this sort of thing just isn’t for him. Still, Erik has been nothing but lovely, so Charles leans forward and presses a kiss to his shoulder. “Thank you. You’ve been very kind tonight. I’m sorry it didn’t quite work out. I understand if you’d like to leave early, I certainly won’t try to stop you.” 

 

“As long as we both end up safe and content, I’d say the night worked out great, babe,” Erik says, squeezing Charles’ hand gently. 

 

“Yes, well… If you say so. Still. I mean it. If you’d like to head out now, I completely understand. I won’t ask for any of the money back, of course. I wouldn’t want you to waste an evening.” 

 

“What? Pass up the opportunity to get spooned by a handsome gentleman like you? Don’t be silly. I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me, love.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magda looks after her best friend for a while and Erik is absolutely smitten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Magda calls Erik ‘Max’ as its his birth/first name. There’ll be further explanation but for the moment just know the names are interchangeable:)
> 
> CW: sex mention, alcohol, platonic domming, platonic bondage

Charles is honestly one of the most adorable clients Erik has had in a few weeks. Obviously, Erik would never speak ill of his clients unless they were being a danger to him, bad for business and all that, but going over to Charles’ really was an enjoyable time. Erik enjoys most of his nights at work, or else he would have stopped doing it a long time ago, but Charles more than most. He’d been awkward, without a doubt, but Erik found it endearing, really. He had clients like this often enough, people who felt they couldn’t approach these things either ways, either because of disabilities or visible mutations. Erik is used to that inexperienced sort of awkwardness. But still, there was just something about Charles that had him feeling even more endeared than normal. They’d had a nice cuddle for most of the time Erik was over, making small talk and simply letting Charles get a bit more comfortable with touching one another. 

 

The last half an hour or so of their time together, Erik spends having a quick shower and getting dressed in a fresh pair of clothes. He makes sure Charles has his number after that, as well as knowing he’s welcome to text anytime if he wants to schedule a follow up of sorts. He’s careful of making sure it doesn’t come off like Charles has to make up for not being able to finish tonight, but Erik’s running a business at the end of the day, and he much prefers repeating customers to new ones. Especially if they’re sweet ones like Charles.

 

Erik bids him farewell around ten and goes back down to the street to start his commute home. He’ll be in the subway soon, without any sort of signal, but he pulls his phone out to call Magda anyway. He’s going home and unless he’d forgotten her plans for the night, he’ll definitely see her there, but he still wants to get a few minutes now if he can. She picks up after the first ring, much to Erik’s joy. “Eager to talk to me tonight, love?” he teases. “I’m still alive and all that. I’m headed home now. See you soon?” 

 

“I don’t have a choice, so I suppose I will. I’m glad his weird interest form wasn’t a sign that he was a murderer,” Magda laughs. 

 

“Nah, just a bit awkward and shy, I think. He was nice. I’ll tell you all about it when I’m home,” Erik promises. 

 

“Sounds like it’ll be a good one. Want me to get a warm drink ready for when you get here?” she offers. 

 

“Fuck yes,” he agrees. “That sounds heavenly, thank you. I’m heading down to the subway, but I’ll be home in twenty minutes or so.” 

 

“I’ll have some cocoa ready for you by then. See you, babe.” 

 

Erik hung up then and went down to the subway where there was never any signal. To be honest, he had a feeling he could get the phone to work anyway if he really tried and chat to Magda the whole way home, but he would stick out like a sore thumb and Erik wasn’t too fond of that. Erik was more than willing to use his powers elsewhere - he hadn’t actually paid a fare since he’d first moved here, for example - and he wasn’t ashamed of what he was, but he didn’t want to have to deal with any ignorant humans or nosy New Yorkers when he was either tired and headed to his university or equally tired and headed back home for the night. 

 

It wasn’t too crowded tonight, at least, and Erik found himself a seat in the corner of the train where he could tuck his bag between his legs, lean back, and close his eyes to just enjoy the feel of metal surrounding him while they sped back to his burough. Erik got out at his stop and went back to his apartment on auto pilot. He could already smell hot chocolate getting made when he walked in and fuck, he’d never been happier to live with Magda. His parents had warned him that being roommates in New York wouldn’t be anything like best friends back home in Germany, but honestly, Erik found this much better.

 

“In the kitchen, Max,” Magda called, which Erik already knew, since he could feel her necklace, but he appreciated her telling him. 

 

Erik goes to the kitchen and kisses her cheek before reaching up to their shelves to put two mugs down on the counter. “You’re the best, you know?” 

 

“I’ve been told once or twice. Take a seat. Do you need any aftercare?” Magda ushers him off to sit down and pats his head so he’ll stay put while she pours out their drinks. 

 

“Nah, it was really tame. I’m good, love,” he assures her. He always lets her know in advance when there’s something more exerting planned out and he suspects he might need something more from her when he gets home, but she always asks anyway. Erik doesn’t deserve her, really. 

 

Magda joins him with their mugs and sits across from him. She puts her feet up on his lap and Erik idly goes to rub them between sips of cocoa. “That’s good. And do you need anything else?” 

 

“Hmm…” Erik is quiet for a while and Magda lets him be, just drinking her hot chocolate in silence until he starts talking again. “I have a whole flurry of papers coming up and it’s been hard to get my mind to focus. Maybe… You could give me a hand?” 

 

“Of course. You know I’ll always say yes when I can. I just need you to ask, that’s all,” she says, reaching over to squeeze his knee. “Why don’t you finish your hot chocolate and we’ll go to the living room? I’ll get you in some positions and tied up for a little while. Until you feel like your head’s in order. You can tell me all about this new guy while we do.” 

 

“That sounds perfect, Magda. Thank you.” 

 

She nods, leaving her empty mug on the counter for Erik to wash up when he’s done. They should probably both be a little more dubious about the fact that their dynamic regularly involves Magda platonically domming him, but it’s far too late at this point to completely turn around their dynamic, so Erik has learned to simply let himself enjoy it and not second guess it all constantly.. Unsurprisingly, his life has been much calmer since he decided to just start approaching things that way. 

 

Erik does the dishes quickly enough, well practiced in that regard. He does most of the tedious chores around the house. Magda’s quite pleased with that, of course, and Erik enjoys being useful, so he’s not about to complain any time soon. When he’s done, he goes out to their living room, where Magda has already pushed aside their coffee table and sat down with a glass of wine for herself and a bundle of ropes at her side. If Erik were straight, he would marry her in a heartbeat, because really, she’s perfect and he loves her. For now, he’s perfectly happy to simply have her as a best friend. 

 

“Kneel down here, babe,” she says, gesturing to the spot of carpet in front of her. 

 

He does, of course, always happy to relinquish authority over to Magda for a while. He might do similar things often with his clients, but they never bring him down like Magda can. He just doesn’t trust anyone else enough for that. Once he’s knelt in front of her, Magda takes a moment to simply stroke his hair and inspect his face. Erik’s already said that he’s fine and doesn’t need anything, but Magda’s always preferred to check for herself. It wouldn’t have been the first time Erik had withheld some the truth from her. But no, today, he’d been truthful. Magda inspects him, taking off his shirt as well, though she leaves his jeans on, and finds nothing. There was nothing to be found. 

 

After a few minutes, she seems confident enough that he really was okay and she reaches for her wine once more to sip at. “Good. You know how much I hate when you come home and someone has clearly not been treating you with the respect you deserve.” 

 

“Trust me, Magda, this guy was a sweetheart. Nothing for you to worry about,” he promises. Erik can’t promise, of course, that he’ll never have difficult clients. It’s one of the things, unfortunately, that comes with the territory of his profession. But at least this one won’t be the one causing him any harm. 

 

“Hmm. Tell me about him,” Magda says, putting her glass down and standing up to circle Erik a few times. “Since you seemed to have such a good time at his place.” 

 

Magda is considerably shorter than Erik and if he were to kneel up straight, his head would probably reach her chest. But Erik is sat back on his heels and honestly, even standing and towering over her, there’s never a question as to who’s in charge. Erik is rarely anything if not incredibly submissive around her. It comes as naturally to him as breathing. As she talks and asks him about his evening, she starts guiding Erik through a few positions. Nothing particularly challenging, just meant to let him feel her hands guiding him down and to stretch out his back before she gets any rope on him. Erik is always happy to comply and he lets himself get lost in it for a few minutes, knowing that Magda never minds the silence when she has to wait for an answer. When he answers, Magda has him leaned forward with his forehead against the carpet, in a sort of child’s pose, save for his arms, which are interlocked behind his back. Magda starts tying his forearms together, in no hurry. Neither of them has anywhere to be in the early morning and she likes to go slow, give him plenty of time to do nothing but feel the hemp sliding against his skin. 

 

“He was about our age. Twenty eight, if I remember right. He’s a graduate student at Columbia, though he didn’t mention in what. His name is Charles. He was very sweet,” Erik explains. 

 

“Was he? And what made Charles so sweet?” she asks, coaxing him to kneel up once more so she can fashion a chest harness around him with the rope. When they had first began this, Erik had thought they’d both need to spend a few hours on YouTube to figure out how to make proper knots. As it turns out, he’d simply made the grave mistake of underestimating Magda. 

 

Even if it was a silly assumption, that’s all the better for him now as he gets to just enjoy it. “Very shy. I don’t think he’ll be like that for long. I get the vibe that he’ll flourish eventually. He’s like a little baby Dom that’s trying to find his wings. It was cute. But tonight, he was just a nervous wreck.” 

 

“Goodness. Did you intimidate the poor man? You have a habit of doing that, even when you don’t mean to.” Magda tightens the harness around his chest and stands to look him over again, this time inspecting him for her work instead of any injuries. 

 

He scoffs. “No. I was on my very best behavior. It was his first time, that’s all. First time doing anything at all, apparently. He was just very stressed about doing well and being behind and all those usual things.” 

 

“Oh, that’s a shame. I’m glad he ended up with a nice guy like you, at least. Are you seeing him again?” Magda sits down once more and pulls Erik closer by the harness until he’s kneeling close enough to the couch that she can hold her wine glass in one hand and pet Erik’s hair with the other. 

 

“Hopefully. I like regulars far more than strangers, especially if they’re going to be sweet like this guy.” Erik leans his head up against Magda, sighing in content. He should probably ask permission before sagging and breaking position like that, but it’s Magda. He’s always been a little spoiled in their friendship. 

 

“You deserve a sweet guy to see every once in a while. Outside of work, too,” she says, scratching his head absentmindedly. 

 

“Magda…” Erik sighs. She’s constantly trying to find him a boyfriend. He knows, of course, that it comes from a good place. But it can be just as annoying as his mother’s never ending quest to get him married. “I don’t mix my work life and my personal life. You know that.” 

 

Magda shrugs. “I know. Doesn’t have to be this guy. Just any guy.” 

 

“I’m too busy for dating.” 

 

“Whatever, Max. Do me a favor and recite EU countries by alphabetical order and year of entry, nerd.” 

 

That’s a ridiculous task and Erik tells her as much, though he does do it. He only makes it up to about H before he gets distracted in the lull of it and trails off, focusing instead of the feel of Magda’s hand in his hair. It had been her intention, no doubt, and some days, she might insist he keep going and finish what’s been asked of him, but today, she lets him fall into the silence instead and they both enjoy a quiet night. Erik half dozing on Magda’s knee and Magda stroking her best friend’s hair while she drinks her wine and watches some terrible episode of reality TV. Erik can’t imagine anything being more perfect than this. 

  
  


\-------

  
  


Erik had been hoping to hear from Charles again. His surprise should certainly not be taken as disinterest. From when they’d first chatted and he’d seen that Charles was a genuinely nice guy, Erik had hoped they’d see each other again. Erik hadn’t met nearly as many creeps in this business as he’d expected, but there were still a few, and the more nice regulars Erik has, the less often he has to meet any creeps. However, considering how clearly uncomfortable Charles had felt during their time together, despite Erik insisting many times there was nothing to worry about, he’d been uncertain if he’d hear from Charles again or if, perhaps, embarrassment might drive him off. And if it didn’t, Erik had expected to wait longer to hear back. Not the very next day, just barely twenty-four hours after they’d parted. Not that he’s complaining. 

 

_ [sms] Hello, Erik. This is Charles. Is it okay if I text you?  _

 

_ [sms] No, I gave you my phone number so you wouldn’t text me. _

 

_ [sms] That’s sarcasm, right?  _

_ [sms] Sory, one of the downsides of being a telepath was I never really got the hang of reading nonverbal cues the normal way.  _

 

_ [sms] Yeah, it’s sarcasm. Sorry, I was just trying (and failing) to be funny. Yeah, of course you’re welcome to text me. Free of charge, even. ;)  _

 

_ [sms] I wanted to apologize again that last night was such a disaster. Maybe I could book another night with you? Try to redeem myself a bit and all that.  _

 

_ [sms] Charles, if you keep apologizing, I swear, I’m going to charge you an extra fee for every sorry. It’s fine, I swear. But yeah, I’d love to see you again. Is your availability the same as when you filled out the form?  _

 

_ [sms] It is. I think you mentioned being free Sunday evening? That would work lovely, unless someone else has already booked that spot.  _

 

_ [sms] Sunday works great. I’ll see you then. Looking forward to it, baby.  _

 

_ [sms] Me too. _

_ [sms] Baby. _

_ [sms] God, sorry, that was inappropriate. Pretend you never received any of those messages.  _

_ [sms] Me too, Erik.  _

 

_ [sms] Adorable.  _

 

Erik probably has a million things he need to get done. He has papers to write, a few hundred pages of case studies to read, content to produce for his premium Snapchat, household chores to do. But fuck if he doesn’t want to just text Charles for a while and see if he can get him saying some more painfully adorable things for Erik to dwell on.He hasn’t felt this ridiculous and childish about a costume since he’d first started out and put in far too much emotional labor into the whole thing. 

 

It was probably inevitable that he get a client who’s completely his type and leaves him acting like a stupid teenage boy. Erik is sure it’ll pass in a few days. Certainly by his second visit to Charles. He’s a professional. He wouldn’t have gotten as far as he did if he let himself act foolish over every adorable man his age he met with. He definitely won’t text Charles again until it’s time to organize anything for their meeting. It’d be horribly unprofessional and it won’t do the silly crush any good. He’s not made up of superhuman will, though, so he relents and texts Magda to ease a bit of the pull inside him. Maybe talking it out with Magda will get him thinking straight again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: *in a corner, crying, cause erik is soft around magda and she will help him be soft around charles*


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Sex talks, internalized ableism, stigma against sex workers,

In a perfect world, Charles wouldn’t have to see Moira again until after this whole situation is resolved and he’s seen Erik a second time to regain his pride. In a perfect world, Charles would probably also not have been in a car accident that made it so difficult for him to have a normal love life in the first place. It would do him good to stop wishing for perfect worlds and learn to deal with this world, but Charles doubts he’ll ever manage that. No surprise that he’s caught completely off guard when Moira comes into his office Friday morning, looking far too excited to just be there to talk about grading papers and undergrads. 

 

Charles groans, because it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what she might want to talk about. “Please, dear, not right now.” 

 

“If I let you shoo me out of this office now, I’ll never get the information I want out of you,” Moira says. “You’ll weasel out of it endlessly if I let you. Did you see him?” 

 

“Close the door, at least,” he grumbles. When the door is closed, he gestures for her to sit before they continue. “We… saw each other, yes.”

 

“Give me all the details, then!” Moira insists. 

 

Charles sighs, thinking it through for a moment. He doesn’t want to admit to a friend that he couldn’t perform, of course. He also doesn’t want to get into the details of the rest, either. Not really. Perhaps he would want different things if he’d gone about this in a more  _ normal  _ way, but since there’s no undoing the past, Charles supposes it’s useless to wonder about it. “I don’t know that I’m entirely comfortable talking ‘details’ with you, Moira.” 

 

“Fine… You don’t have to tell me anything you’re uncomfortable with. But there must be something, right? Anything at all?” she pries. Charles had expected that, to be honest. As annoyed as he might want to be, he’s used to Moira by now. 

 

Charles starts to shake his head, but he knows Moira won’t give up. So he thinks for another minute, trying to think of anything at all he can offer, and finally says, “Well. Sex and stuff aside, he was nice. Very… normal. I don’t know, I didn’t expect him to be so normal. I suppose that’s my own personal prejudice talking, but… I was pleasantly surprised.” 

 

“See? There’s a first time for everything!” Moira grins. She looks entirely too smug, but there’s not much to be done about that now. “Don’t go getting a crush, though, okay? Now that you’ve gotten over your mental hurdle, we’ll find you a genuine nice guy. Who isn’t paid to spend time with you.” 

 

“Moira… I’m seeing him again this weekend, okay? I don’t know that I’m ‘over’ my mental hurdle, and he’s sweet. It’s not like I’m going to marry him, it’s just…” Charles trails off. 

 

“A bit of fun?” she supplies. 

 

Charles nods, even if on the inside, he doesn’t feel quite so confident. “Exactly. A bit of fun.” 

 

“All right, all right. Have your fun,” Moira agrees. “But be careful, okay? I don’t want you getting your heart hurt because you jump headfirst into everything.” 

 

“Understood, darling,” Charles promises. 

 

Whether he’ll act like he understands it is a totally different story, of course. 

  
  


\-----

 

Charles is slightly less nervous on Sunday than he’d been the first time around. Just slightly, though. He’s actually sitting and ready for visitors this time, which is a slight improvement, he supposes. He and Erik were scheduled to meet at the same time as last, so Charles is sure to set an alarm for himself at 5:30 this time.When Erik knocks, Charles only takes a few seconds to be at the door and open up. He realizes after another moment that he probably should have waited a bit longer to seem normal and not embarrassingly over eager, but it’s too late for that now. Thankfully, Erik doesn’t seem put off when he spots him. Instead, he just smiles at him and leans down to greet Charles with a hug. 

 

It’s a bit strange, somehow too intimate yet not intimate enough considering what they’ve done, but Charles leans up to hug him back. “Hello, Erik. It’s good to see you again. I’m glad you came by.” 

 

“Of course. I’m glad you gave me another chance.” Erik winks at him. 

 

Charles is… a goner, honestly. He gestures for Erik to come inside and closes the door behind him. He wheels himself over to the living area, meaning to spend some time just chatting with Erik like he had last time. It makes the whole thing feel a little less intimidating. Perhaps he should have had a kettle already on, since Erik had agreed to have tea last time. Then again, perhaps that would have actually been incredibly presumptuous of him. God, what if Erik had never even wanted tea and only agreed for Charles’ sake? Charles thought through a whole set of unlikely scenarios now, all of them making him as nervous as the last. 

 

One would think being a telepath meant never falling trap to all these endless ‘what if’s. One would be wrong. 

 

“I can, um, I can get water boiling for tea again, if you’d like. There’s also water and juice and wine,” Charles offers. Erik refuses politely, so Charles puts the brakes on his chair and transfer himself onto the couch. He’d been too embarrassed to do that the first time, but by now, Erik’s seen him in much more compromising situations. They sit in silence for a few minutes, and though Erik never shows any signs of discomfort or awkwardness, Charles knows that this must be horrible. It’s like his brain’s stopped working and he can’t think of a single thing to say. When the silence gets a bit too painful, Charles clears his throat and fiddles with a loose thread on his sweater while he asks, “How was your week since I last saw you?” 

 

It’s a stupid, stupid question. They’re not friends, Charles knows. It’s probably inappropriate for him to ask after Erik’s personal life like this. Still, it’s a bit too late to take it back now and, thankfully, Erik just looks quietly amused. “It was a bit busy, but I can’t complain. I’m glad to be back here with you, though.” 

 

“Oh, um. Thank you.” Charles smiles at him, even if it is a bit halfhearted. 

 

Erik’s leaned up close to place his hand just above Charles’ knee and squeeze his inner thigh gently, which Charles sees, even if he doesn’t particularly feel it. It’s sweet and intimate and makes Charles feel wanted, but it also makes him a little sick to remember that all of this is fake. Charles would love to think that someone could really be glad to see him again in a sexual setting twice within a week, but Erik is being paid to be here. He probably says that same thing to everyone he sees more than once. He must. It’s a business, after all. It leaves Charles with an ugly sort of feeling inside. Will he ever get past this bought affection? He has no idea and it scares him to think of. It scares him even more how easily he lets himself fall into the trap of it all and let himself believe Erik is actually glad to see him again. 

 

He shouldn’t hold it against Erik, Charles knows. Not even like this, in his thoughts. Erik is only here because of Charles. He’s simply doing the job he was hired for and if there’s anyone to blame, it’s Charles himself. It’s not fair that he hold these things against Erik when Erik is only trying to make him feel cared for. He hasn’t said anything out loud, of course, but he must be quite obvious about it anyway, because Erik sort of winces and pulls his hand back from Charles’ thigh. Now that it’s gone, Charles decides he would much rather have it there as a false affection he can’t feel than not at all. 

 

“You’re projecting a bit,” Erik says, apologetically. Not that he has anything to apologize for. It’s Charles who should be apologizing for being such an ass, even if only in his head. “Look, Charles, I understand this can all be a bit jarring. And of course, this is a transaction and you are my client. But I don’t accept requests from people I don’t want to be around. This is a business interaction, but it’s also very different than most business interactions. Just because we’re not lovers doesn’t mean this isn’t still an interaction built upon mutual trust, respect, and attraction. Am I paid to be here? Yes. Do I occasionally play it up so my clients feel they’re getting their money’s worth? Yes. But does that mean every moment is a lie? Of course not. Even when I might exaggerate, it’s based on some sort of truth. And for what it’s worth, I really am glad to see you again. You were a very sweet customer.” 

 

Charles can’t imagine how someone would treat someone as gorgeous as Erik anything less than perfect, but he nods, looking apologetic the whole while. “Of course. I’m sorry, I usually have better control than this. You shouldn’t be wasting your time dealing with my silly insecurities.” 

 

“If it makes you feel better, it’s not a waste of time,” Erik promises. 

 

“You’re very good at your job,” he notes, chuckling softly. Maybe if he thinks of it as a normal, harmless thing long enough, he’ll convince himself that it is. 

 

“I’d hope so. So, if you wanted to chat a bit before hand, I’d been meaning to ask you if there were any kinks or anything you were interested in exploring? So I can come prepared and all that,” Erik explains. 

 

Charles probably turns an embarrassing shade of red and he wishes he’d made tea anyway so he can hide his face in a mug. Too late for that now. “Oh, um… I don’t know. I haven’t thought much about that and besides, I should probably get a hang for how to enjoy more normal stuff before veering off into anything else.” 

 

“Oh? Normal stuff like how embarrassed you were when I played with your nipples last time? Even though it obviously felt good for you?” he asks. 

 

Isn’t the whole point of hiring someone that they’re unrealistically easy on you and agree with everything you say? Not that Charles doesn’t deserve a bit of calling out, but goodness. He hadn’t really been prepared for it. Still, he tries to regain some dignity and shifts himself a bit further back on the couch. He should at least be sitting as comfortably as he can manage if he’s going to be interrogated. 

 

“I mean… well, yes. But I think I’d like to get a hang for trying to feel good the ways men are supposed to feel good before I venture off into the world of… nipples and kinks,” Charles says. He is sure there is no dignified way to say ‘nipples and kinks’ but it doesn’t stop him from trying. 

 

“Charles.” Erik looks serious now as he leans in closer and Charles can’t help but wonder if he’s done something wrong already. “You’re allowed to like things. You know that, right?” 

 

“I… What? Of course I know that. I’ve hired you, haven’t I?” 

 

“You have. But then you make up all these absurd rules for yourself about how you’re ‘supposed’ to do things or ‘supposed’ to enjoy things and what’s ‘normal’ or not. And for what? For who? What goes on in your bedroom is for you and your partner, and if you enjoy something that’s not quite the norm, that’s perfectly fine. Why shouldn’t it be? Sex is about having fun, not being the most proper.” 

 

“Well, yes, but there’s something to be said for standard things, no?” 

 

“Of course. But let’s be honest. Standard doesn’t work for your body. Even the most ‘standard’ sex for you probably won’t look like vanilla, missionary position, have her lie back and think of England, and all that. Might as well embrace it, no?” 

 

“I’m trying… Truly.” 

 

“I know, baby. It’s not easy. But the first step is letting yourself enjoy things. Even if you think they’re not ‘normal’ or ‘standard’ or whatever.” 

 

Charles nods slowly. Erik is right, of course, even if Charles finds this topic of conversation horribly embarrassing. He’d always grown up under the teaching that sex was something to be had off in private and in the dark with a spouse or mistress. Certainly not talked about in a well lit living room while fully clothed. This is probably a much healthier way to approach it, but it’ll take Charles a bit to get used to it, regardless. “I… Yes. You’re right, of course. Thank you, Erik, I think I did need a bit of a kick in the pants with that one.” 

 

“It’s what I’m here for,” Erik promises, chuckling softly. “That and fucking, of course. So… back to kinks?” 

 

“Oh. Um. I suppose I haven’t given it much thought before? I think… the idea of submitting doesn’t seem entirely appealing to me and I never truly considered I might be in the position to dominate someone, but… it does seem… intriguing,” he admits. 

 

“Intriguing’s good. I can work with intriguing,” Erik agrees. He reaches forward to squeeze Charles’ shoulder encouragingly. “Why don’t you think about it a bit? You don’t have to give me an answer right now, but I’m happy to delve into the scene a bit if you’d like and I would happily submit for you. We’d talk and discuss it all properly beforehand, of course, but you need to have some sort of idea where to begin so this can be about your wants and needs. Even if it seems vaguely intriguing, how about you jot it down and we’ll chat about it? We can start getting a better idea for the things you like, so this is truly enjoyable for you, not just checking off a box.” 

 

“That… Yes, that all sounds reasonable. You’re very caring, Erik. You know that? I… I didn’t really expect it would be like this,” he says. Charles feels unreasonably like that’s a betrayal, like he’s admitting that he’d assumed the worst about Erik based on his profession, but the truth is better than a lie. Unfortunately, he’s sure Erik has heard worse. 

 

“I’m adaptable,” he chuckles. “But yes. Life’s not really like the movies.” 

 

“In your words, I thought there’d be a bit more of… lying back and thinking of England. Or is it Germany, in your case?” Charles teases. Most of his awkwardness  and tension from before is gone, which Charles figures was Erik’s intention. He’s still as impressed as ever how Erik can play him like a fiddle without ever making him feel like he’s being played at all. 

 

Erik laughs, which leaves Charles feeling probably a bit too proud. “No, probably not. I’m not nearly Aryan enough. Not lie back and think of England, either. Not nearly self-hating enough for that. Maybe lie back and think of an imaginary mutant homeland?” 

 

“Of course that’s what you’d think of.” Charles grins, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I’ve taken a mutant supremacist to bed.” 

 

“Oh?” Erik leans forward, almost close enough to kiss, but not quite. “Is this an invitation to bring in politics to our pillow talk?” 

 

Charles flushes. He reaches up and lays a hand gently on Erik’s waist, wanting to keep him there, but also not wanting to be pushy. It’s probably the opposite of what the talk they’d just had was supposed to get him thinking, but Charles has always been a bit slow to change. “Only if you promise you won’t start ignoring my texts because we’ve started arguing after sex.” 

 

“Oh, never,” Erik promises, covering the last few inches between them to kiss Charles. 

 

It’s not exactly loving -  they both know perfectly well this will end in sex, as it’s what Erik’s been booked for - but it’s not as cold as Charles might have expected before actually meeting Erik. He’s incredibly glad Erik had proved him wrong. Erik climbs onto his lap properly, knees on either side of Charles’ hips to straddle him while they kiss and both of Charles’ hands are at his waist now to hold him in place, forgetting Charles’ original aversion to being too pushy. He might be okay being a bit pushy when it means getting Erik in his lap like this. 

 

“I’ll have you know,” Charles says in between kisses, “I’m behind some of the leading research in the field of genetic mutations. You’ll be hard pressed to win an argument against me.”

 

Erik laughs. “Whatever you say, baby. You bedded a mutant supremacist and I bedded an integrationist scientist. Just as bad.” 

 

“You’ve got quite the attitude on you, don’t you?” Charles asks, nipping at Erik’s bottom lip before pulling back to lean against one of the couch cushions. 

 

“Maybe.” He smirks. “What’ll you do about it? Gonna bend me over your knee, sir?” 

 

“Fuck.” 

 

Charles has absolutely no doubt that if his body functioned properly, he would be unbearably hard by now. His body doesn’t function properly, though, and never will, something that Charles needs to make his peace with. Still even without a tent in his trousers, Erik can probably see from a mile away that Charles is incredibly turned on. His breath is beginning to come in embarrassing huffs and the red flush has spread down his neck now. Charles squeezes Erik’s waist and lets one of his hands wander up Erik’s shirt a bit more boldly, exploring the skin there. 

 

“I think if I don’t get you in my bed soon, my head might explode,” Charles says, grazing his thumb over one of Erik’s nipples. Does it feel as good for him as it does for Charles? Erik had moaned, but he’s being paid to be here, so perhaps that’s not the most accurate measure. He’ll have to find out at some point. 

 

“Well, I don’t want to deal with scientist telepath brains all over your nice white couch, so let’s go get my pretty ass in your bed.” 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: sex, brief unsafe sex, brief unnegotiated kink

Part of Erik’s job is acting. He won’t deny that. Even though he makes it a point not to do anything he absolutely hates, but that doesn’t mean he thoroughly enjoys everything he does either. Most of the times, he’s quite indifferent. Still, he doesn’t ever seem indifferent when a customer is concerned. That would be a terrible business technique. (Except, of course, on the occasions he gets hired by men with a penchant for humiliation, but that’s a rare exception Erik can’t really account for.) Erik tries not to play it up to the point of being ridiculous, but there is undoubtedly a bit of pretend that has to go into his work. 

 

It comes easy with Charles. Erik still exaggerates here and there, it’s hard not to, both because Charles is so timid and because it’s become habit, but for the most part, he really is genuine with Charles. He’s sweet like that, one of the rare clients that makes Erik wish they had met anywhere else, so they could have any chance at a real relationship between them, not just this monetary exchange until Charles grows confident enough to go off on his own. Erik doesn’t let himself think of such things often. It’s silly to. If he worked in a coffee shop and had a cute regular, he might let himself have a bit of a crush, ,but he wouldn’t think constantly about what a shame it was that they hadn’t met in another context. He has a different type of job, but it’s still a job. Erik tries to make sure he doesn’t think about it too differently from that. 

 

Even if he does feel like a teenager with a crush as he follows Charles into his bedroom. He’s been here only once before, but he still feels awfully comfortable as he goes to sit at the edge of Charles’ bed. “How did you plan on ravaging me today, Charles?” Erik asks, a teasing note to his voice. 

 

Some clients, he plays it straight, acting the part of seduced pretty young thing with a one track mind. Nothing but fucking and raspy flirting. Other times, though, he lets himself be a bit looser, teasing and bantering like he does with Charles. With people like Charles, he’s found that can do wonders in getting them to just relax and breathe for a second, instead of getting all caught up in their heads. Personally, Erik thinks sex should always be fun and involve a little laughter. He can’t fathom the men who want it nothing but serious, but hey, he’s not the one paying. He’s glad Charles isn’t like that. No, Charles is the sort who turns such an endearing red when asked about sex, despite having already paid Erik for just that. 

 

“I think it’d be quite a good start to get you in my lap again,” he says. It’s still shy and just a bit awkward, but it’s better than when they’d first met. 

 

Erik waits for Charles to transfer himself onto the bed and then goes to straddle him. “Luckily, your lap is a very comfortable place to be.” 

 

“Liar,” Charles says, but he’s laughing while he does. 

 

“Me? A liar?” he scoffs softly and leans down to kiss down from Charles’ earlobe to his chest, unbuttoning his shirt as he does. “I’m many things, but I promise a liar is not one of them. This is a very cozy lap to be on. It’s a shame you don’t see that.” 

 

“Oh, sure, you’ve never found a lap more comfortable than an atrophied and immobile one,” Charles remarks. He rolls his eyes and tries to reach for Erik’s shirt to undo the buttons, but Erik reaches up, taking Charles’ hands in his to stop them. 

 

“Hey.” Erik lets go of Charles’ hands when he’s sure Charles won’t go straight for his shirt when he’s able. Instead, he reaches one hand to tilt Charles’ face up towards his. Briefly, Erik marvels at how blue Charles’ eyes are, but he pushes those thoughts away almost as quickly as they’d come up. “None of that. I can’t imagine what living with your injury is like and I won’t pretend I can, but one thing I’ve learned over the years is that we tend to be our own harshest critics. So perhaps you look at yourself and see that, but believe me when I say I find you incredibly attractive. You’re a handsome man and I’m sure you can have your pick of partner once you really put yourself out there.” 

 

“That’s… Very kind of you to say, Erik,” Charles says softly, glancing away from him. 

 

“Of course. Now, no more talking yourself down like that, okay? I’ll gladly ruin the mood every time until you stop it,” he promises. As an afterthought, Erik adds, “Unless humiliation is a kink of yours or something, in which case, you really should speak to me about it first.” 

 

Charles laughs. He shakes his head as he does, and leans forward to rest his forehead on Erik’s shoulder. “No, I really don’t believe it is. I’ll do my best to put a pause to it. Though it is very difficult to ruin the mood with a man as handsome as you on me.” 

 

“You really know how to flatter a boy, don’t you?” Erik snorts softly, taking Charles’ hands and moving them up to his chest once more, giving him permission to continue with taking his shirt off as he’d been doing. 

 

“Who wouldn’t want to with someone as lovely as you?” he asks.

 

It’s… terribly earnest and clenches at Erik’s heart in a way he hasn’t felt at work in a long time, so he leans down to kiss him again, preferring they not look at each other for a moment. Charles could always look into his mind and find it all there, of course, but he’s been good about not peering in uninvited so far, and Erik will just have to hope that won’t suddenly change now. It’s only a momentary weakness and when he pulls away from the kiss a few seconds later, he’s good as new, all but unaffected so he can remain impartial and professional with Charles. Developing foolish feelings isn’t any good for either of them, but especially from him, who’s meant to keep them on track. 

 

Erik is more careful as they continue, even as he lets Charles strip his shirt off him. He’s probably just a bit pent up. Too long since he’s done anything outside of work. He’ll have to figure it out later, but for now, Erik just pushes away the thoughts and focuses in on Charles. It’s what he’s getting paid to do, after all, and Charles is sweet enough that Erik genuinely wants him to have a good time in this. 

 

“Do you want to try the same way as last time? Or something a bit different?” Erik asks. Once Charles is sat up and settled, he reaches for the lube and condoms, since it will very likely be a necessity anyway. 

 

“Um…” Charles thinks it through for an awkward and silent moment, before shaking his head. “Like last time, I think. I don’t know if my heart can withstand shaking things up just yet.”

 

Erik laughs softly and presses the lube into his hands. “All right. Well, you know what to do, don’t you? Since you did such a great job at it last time.”

 

Charles predictably turns a pretty shade of red, but he complies and takes the lube from him, helping Erik position himself in a way that makes this a bit easier for the both of them. Erik is glad to note that Charles’ hands are a bit more assertive today, even if he is still, undeniably, unsure about the whole thing. Erik tries not to pressure him any which way, even if he does play up his moans and pleased writhing. Just a bit and certainly less than he does with some others, but Charles could probably do with the extra bit of confidence. 

 

It’s when he has three fingers up his ass that Charles decides to make some conversation with him, which… Well, Erik would probably laugh about if he’s not afraid it might crumple every ounce of confidence Charles has gained. Erik holds back the amusement instead. It’s not as though he’s not used to strange occurrences while he has things up his ass. 

 

“I’m sure you, uh, recall from our last time together… about how I need physical stimulation to get erect these days. And I know last time I said I’d prefer to just handle it myself, but… I thought perhaps… today you could give me a hand? Just, you know, just if you want, of course,” he says. Erik can only imagine the sort of effort it takes Charles to get this far and he’s proud, in a strange sort of way. 

 

“Of course, baby,” Erik promises, reaching back to squeeze his wrist. 

 

He’s stretched out enough by now that Erik feels fine with moving on. He tells Charles as much and when Charles pulls his fingers away, Erik moves up on his knees, facing Charles, and helps him get his briefs off. It’s a bit easier now that he’s gone through the motions before and he’s a bit more confident this time, even when he finds Charles’ cock still soft. He hadn’t assumed the worst the first time they’d gotten together,  but it is reassuring to know for a fact that this is simply how Charles’ body functions and nothing personal. Erik checks in with Charles to make sure he’s still on board with this and then kneels down closer to put Charles’ cock in his mouth. 

 

It’s always a bit of an odd feeling to have a cock still soft in his mouth, but Erik’s done it a handful of times in the past, so he doesn’t get too caught up in it. If he had been tripped up for a moment, Erik’s not even sure Charles would have even notice. He’d let out what might be the world’s most adorable yelp when Erik bent between his legs and currently has his fingers shyly threaded through Erik’s hair. Vaguely, Erik wonders if Charles might be able to fuck his face. Not moving his hips, but he could grasp his hair and direct his head that way, most likely, which is just as good. That’s a… strange thought to have about a client and Erik pushes it aside. He should probably spend some time thinking it over and wondering what brought it on, but for the moment,  he’s content to just ignore it and redirect his attention to helping Charles achieve an erection. 

 

It’s a nice feeling, in a way, to feel Charles harden while already in his mouth. It seems to stretch his lips in a different way and there’s a certain satisfaction that comes from feeling the tip of Charles’ cock go from the roof of his mouth to the back of his throat in a few moments. Erik’s not sure how much of this he can feel or if going through his usual motions for able bodied partners would be enjoyed or seen as insulting. Better safe than sorry, he supposes, so he pulls back, making sure to keep a show about it for Charles’. He pulls back with a soft pop and kisses the top of it before glancing up at him. 

 

Erik doesn’t even get a chance to ask his question before Charles is patting down his hair. Breathless, he says, “You look… really good down there.” 

 

“Yeah?” Erik smiles up at him and squeezes his thigh, before thinking about it another second and reaching up to squeeze his waist instead. “Good. That’s the point. I take it you’re still okay with this?” 

 

“Definitely,” Charles agrees. He’s obviously embarrassed about that answer, but combined with how flushed his cheeks are and the wide eyed stare he’s giving Erik, it just makes him all that more attractive. 

 

Erik nods and reaches for a condom to slip on Charles now that he’s half hard. He probably shouldn’t have started without it, but what’s life without a few risks? Somehow, Erik doubts he’ll catch something from Charles. “Should I just get you hard and stop, or would you like me to keep going longer?” 

 

“Um… Keep going?” Charles decides, hesitant as ever. “I’ll tell you when I want to stop. I just… like seeing you down there.” 

 

“You got it, baby,” Erik promises, adjusting his grip on Charles’ thighs and leaning down again. 

 

Erik can suck cock like an absolute champ. He has many references who would attest to that, should Erik ever need to prove it for some reason. He isn’t, however, used to sucking cock with someone who doesn’t have full sensation in his genitals. Mostly, he does what he’d usually do and lets Charles’ reactions guide him, though he’s never quite sure if his moans are from the way Erik swirls his tongue around the head or because he thinks Erik makes a pretty picture down here. He supposes it doesn’t matter, so long as Charles is enjoying himself, which he certainly is, if his moans and hands in Erik’s hair are anything to go off of. Erik is enjoying himself too, in a way he doesn’t very often with his clients. 

 

There’s something that makes him feel pleasantly warm and fuzzy about Charles’ fingers tugging at his hair. Erik’s not even sure if Charles realizes he’s doing it, but it’s pleasant. Probably more than it should be, but Erik doesn’t have long to ponder on it. Even when he falls into the concentration of his task, Charles only keeps him at it for a few minutes before tugging Erik off by his hair. A second later, he looks horrifically apologetic and pats Erik’s hair back down before pulling his fingers away. 

 

“I’m sorry. I should have used my words. I, um, I think I’d like it if you rode me now,” he says. 

 

Erik smiles gently up at him, to let him know it’s fine. “You probably should make sure to discuss it with your partners before pulling their hair like that, but it’s okay, baby. I like it.” 

 

Charles, predictably, turns deliciously red at that and if Erik isn’t keenly aware that most men don’t want to kiss someone who’d just been sucking them off, he would have leaned in to kiss him. Erik gets a condom on himself, as well, and moves up to straddle his hips like last time. They have some practice at this, at least, and it goes by smoothly as Erik helps Charles slip into him and then goes back to riding him with practiced ease. This time, he has a better idea which parts of Charles’ body bring him pleasure, which makes it a much better experience for the both of them. 

 

If Erik had to guess, he’d say sight is a big part of this for Charles, so he tries to make sure Charles always has a clear view of Erik’s hips working at his cock, even as he leans in closer to kiss his neck and chest. He drags his fingernails along him as well, relishing in the way Charles shivers at that. It’s clear a part of him is still unsure about this, as though this isn’t a proper way to get off because it’s not centered around his dick, but Erik hopes he can make Charles realize that there’s no right or wrong way to feel good, so long as everyone’s consenting. And Erik is definitely consenting. 

 

He can’t quite see Charles’ orgasm coming like he can with some of his other clients, but it’s unmistakable when it comes. Charles leans his head back against the wall and lets out the most gorgeous groan Erik’s ever heard as he lets his eyes shut close. A shiver runs along his upper body and if Erik had any doubt, he feels the slight brush of a mind against his one, more than likely Charles as the careful control he has on his telepathy loosens just a bit. Erik slows his pace slightly, but rides him through it and reaches between them to do efficient work of jerking himself off as well, so Charles won’t feel that Erik isn’t getting something out of this as well. When they’ve both come down off it, Erik eases off Charles’ cock and kneels down beside him. 

 

Charles hadn’t ejaculated, but Erik knows from the frantic research he’d done that that’s not too uncommon, so he’s careful not to make a big deal of it as he takes both their condoms off and disposes of them in the bathroom trash. He comes back with a wet towel, which he uses to clean the both of them up a bit. He’d rinsed his mouth off quickly, so Erik takes the opportunity to lean in and kiss him briefly as well. 

 

“How was that?” he asks, smirking at him. 

 

“It was… Quite brilliant.” Charles laughs breathlessly, leaning back with his eyes closed. He opens them a bit, peering down at Erik and his spent cock. “Maybe next time I can… uh… you know, help you with that.” 

 

“Oh. I should have probably asked. But sure, you can get me off however you’d like next time,” Erik promises. 

 

He checks the alarm clock on the side table quickly, but there’s still enough time to lay for a bit, shower, and pack up without going over their agreed upon schedule, so Erik gets back on the bed and moves them around a bit so Erik is laid with his head on Charles’ chest. Charles is hesitant at first, insisting over and over that Erik doesn’t need to stay if he doesn’t want to and that Charles won’t take down his pay for leaving a bit early, but Erik is nothing if not stubborn and he eventually manages to convince Charles that it’s fine. As he relaxes, Charles also brings a hand up to stroke Erik’s hair. Between the sweating and tugging, it’s started to curl a bit. That’s something that usually annoys him a great deal, but he finds he doesn’t mind it so much right now. 

 

“Erik?” Charles ventures. 

 

“Hmm?” Erik kisses his chest and looks up at him. “Yeah?” 

 

“You know earlier, we were talking about kinks?” Charles waits for Erik to nod before continuing. “I very much enjoyed pulling your hair earlier… Even though I know we should have talked about it properly beforehand. Maybe… we can go from there and explore some things?” 

 

Erik can only imagine how difficult a sentiment this is for Charles to express, so he makes sure to reward it by squeezing his hand and leaning up to kiss him. “Yeah, of course. I can send you some links to read up online and maybe some suggestions? Does that sound okay?” 

 

“It sounds okay,” Charles agrees, nodding. “Thank you, Erik.” 

 

“Oh, don’t thank me. I’m the one who gets to look forward to wild, kinky sex with you.” Erik winks up at him, smirking as he does. 

 

“Is there a kink that involves you being quiet for once instead of embarrassing me?” 

 

“You know, there might be, but where’s the fun in that?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: mentions of sex, stigma against sex workers, stigma against poly relationships

Charles has a very embarrassing week after his last visit with Erik. It’s not  _ really _ embarrassing. No one is privy to his shame except Erik, who doesn’t seem to find it shameful at all. But that doesn’t make him any less likely to turn an unforgiving shade of red any time he checks his phone and finds messages from Erik either with ‘play suggestions’ - as Erik calls them - or informative links that Erik ‘came across and thought might be of some benefit’. No one else uses his phone, but Charles still deletes the browsing history every so often, because he really, really doesn’t want to have to explain to anyone why he’s been reading articles about BDSM etiquette and the safest ways to spank people and proper ways to tie ropes around human limbs. Not a conversation he wants to have, no thank you. 

 

He’s beginning to suspect that Erik has a secondary mutation for always texting at the worst possible moment. It’s the only possible explanation for how he always manages to send Charles messages when he’s out in public. Especially when he’s out with people who have no personal boundaries or shame in asking intrusive questions. 

 

Charles has only just sat down for coffee and pastries with some friends from the university that his phone pings with a new message. Logically, Charles knows he can just ignore it until he’s left the cafe and he’s somewhere more private. The world won’t end if he doesn’t read and reply to Erik’s messages within a minute of him sending them. Not so logically, Charles really doesn’t want to wait any longer before finding out what Erik is messaging about. When he opens the message, he decides maybe this is a good lesson in patience because it’s a horrifically tempting picture of Erik’s ass and upper thighs, all pink and red from God knows what with an accompanying text reading ‘ _ Sneak peek to Wednesday, maybe?’.  _ Charles clicks out of the message quickly enough that no one sees, but not quite quickly enough that no one notices how he’s blushing. 

 

“Doing all right over there, Charles? What’s got you all excited?” Gabrielle asks, teasing. She leans in towards him, trying to sneak a peek at his phone, but Charles has already turned off the screen.

 

“Reading up on my favorite scientific journal, if you must know,” Charles huffs out, turning his phone on mute and shoving it away deep into his pocket. 

 

Hank laughs. “Even I don’t look like that while reading journals.” 

 

“And Hank is way nerdier than you, Charles,” Raven agrees. She’s not a friend from uni, but she always finds herself at their coffee dates, anyway. Even if being Charles’ sister wasn’t enough to get her an invite, she’s also dating Hank. (Along with a lovely Austrian girl named Irene who Charles is expressly forbidden from meeting again, seeing as the first time they’d met, Charles had quite passionately accused Raven of cheating on Hank. How was he supposed to know anything about throuples or open relationships or whatever it is they’re calling it this week?)

 

“I’m not quite sure whether to take offence to that or see it as a compliment,” Charles says truthfully, shaking his head. “It was a science journal. Believe it or not, you’re not getting any other answers.” 

 

There’s a grumble around the table, no doubt disappointed with his answer, but Charles isn’t going to budge. Bad enough Moira is involved in all of this, he’s definitely not letting Raven know that he’s hired a sex worker twice, going on three times, and texting him rather frequently over the last few days. Raven would never let him live it down, and it’s not the sort of conversation Charles is looking forward to having with his sister. With any luck, Charles will get Erik out of his system soon, find a partner through conventional methods, and Raven will never have to know about this little bump in the road. 

 

Their far too large order of teas and coffees and pastries is called up at the desk and Charles is pleased to see them all distracted by it. Raven and Hank bring it back to the table, organizing the pastries between all of them, even though they all know Hank will probably end up eating most of them. They’re all up for a game of pretending for the sake of being polite, though, and once their drink orders are spread out among the four of them, they take bits of cookies and cake one at a time instead of forming small mountains of it on their plate.

 

“I’m going to miss bread. Truly. A week without it is the greatest suffering any human could possibly live with,” Gabriel laments. She shoves a piece of cake in her mouth, entirely too dramatic and unrefined for someone raised in diplomacy, and lets out a pleased moan. 

 

Hank tilts his head curiously. “A week without it?”

 

“Passover starts next week,” she explains. “Just imagine a week without every carb that brings joy to your life and you just about have an accurate picture of Passover. Lots of wine, though.” 

 

“Lots of wine, you say?” Raven echoes, smirking at her. “Are we talking in a Holy Communion sort of way or more like that crazy party we had back in February? What was that holiday called again? I swear, it made me want to dump Hank and Irene both in search of a nice Jewish boy to bring home.” 

 

Gabrielle laughs. “That was a Purim party. Passover isn’t quite like that, I’m afraid, though not much is. It’s… Seders can be fun. With good friends there. Especially the seder after parties I’ve always thrown, when everyone is four glasses of wine in and happy to go a bit further.” 

 

“Ugh, no holiday we ever grew up with was that fun. Maybe I should find a nice Jewish boy, after all,” Raven says, staring Hank up and down, much to his chagrin. 

 

Gabrielle smirks at them both. “As lovely as boys from the tribe are, there’s no need to take drastic measures just yet. My family always hosts a  _ huge  _ seder the first night of Passover. I swear, like half the Jews in the city show up. You’re all more than welcome to come. And to my after party, of course.”

 

“Are you sure we wouldn’t be intruding?” Hank asks, frowning a bit. 

 

Charles has a feeling Hank is more worried about being at a party than intruding, but he nods in agreement, anyway. “Please, don’t feel obliged to invite us to your religious celebrations because of my sister’s whining.” He gives Raven a disapproving glance as he speaks, which she happily ignores. 

 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Gabrielle shakes her head. “It’s an open event and non-Jews are more than welcome, as long as they’re respectful. Which I know you three will be. It’s a bit long, I’ll warn you, but there’ll be a nice dinner at the end of it. And my parents always leave to Paris right after the seder to visit family, so I’ll have the penthouse filled to the brim with Kosher-for-Passover finger food, wine, and half of New York’s eligible Jewish bachelors. First night of Passover is a Saturday this year. Very convenient.”   
  


“That sounds exactly like the sort of place I need to be in on a Saturday night. Count us in. Can Irene come, too?” Raven asks, grinning as she reaches over to Hank’s plate to take half a chocolate chip cookie. 

 

“Sure. I need names at least a day before, so their on the list and there’s enough food for everybody, but invite whoever you want,” she agrees. 

 

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to be in the same room as Irene anymore,” Charles points out, rolling his eyes. “So, I’m sorry, Gabby, but you’ll have to choose between me or Irene.” 

 

“Oh, that’s an easy choice. Irene, of course.” 

 

“Hey!” 

 

\-------

 

Charles waits until he’s in the relative solitude and safety of his home before he pulls up Erik’s text again. Erik hasn’t texted again since the first message, which isn’t entirely surprising. He and Charles exchange a few texts most days, but he’s never the type to double text when Charles leaves him on long stretches of silence. It’s one of the many reminders that this isn’t exactly genuine, but it’s one of the easier ones to ignore, so Charles is happy to simply pretend that Erik texts him because he wants to and not because he’s paid to. 

 

When he opens the chat again, Charles spends a few moments just admiring the picture now that he can, as well as scrolling a few messages back at some of the other pictures Erik has sent. He feels like a creep, reading through old messages for pictures like this, but Erik’s gorgeous. Charles isn’t sure anyone would be able to resist. When he’s sure he’s calmed enough to not say something completely absurd, he starts typing out his reply. 

 

_ {sms} You’re very pretty all flushed like that.  _ _  
_ _ {sms} Will I get to see it in person?  _

 

_ {sms} That’s up to you, Charles. You certainly can if you want to.  _

 

_ {sms} What do you want? _

 

_ {sms} I’m open to it, yes. I’m open to everything we’ve chatted about.  _

 

_ {sms} I asked what you want, not what you’re open to, Erik.  _

 

_ {sms} Oh. Right. Sorry.  _ _  
_ _ {sms} I do want to do things like that with you, but I don’t want it to be at the expense of your comfort. So I do want it, but above that, I don’t want you to push yourself on my behalf.  _

 

_ {sms} Okay.  _ _  
_ _ [sms} I’m sorry, my previous message was phrased a bit rudely.  _

 

_ {sms} Don’t worry about it. It was pretty hot tbh  _

 

_ {sms} Oh. _ __  
_ {sms} Good. _ __  
_ {sms} Cool. _ _  
_ __ {sms} Got to go grade papers, see you Wednesday, bye

 

It’s not the most graceful of exits. It’s, in fact, the complete opposite of a graceful ending. But Charles is too busy trying to wrap his head around being called ‘pretty hot’ by Erik to care too much. Christ. Maybe Moira had been right to worry about Charles getting himself far too deep into this. Maybe this really was just a path leading straight to pain and disappointment for him. At this point, though, Charles was almost sure he was too far in to turn back, so perhaps there wasn’t much better to do but sit back and enjoy the compliments when they came, genuine or not. 

  
  


\------

 

Considering how much he’s been thinking about Erik these last few days, it was a miracle he managed to forget all about Erik when it mattered most. Well, it might be considered a miracle, if miracles were terrible, unlucky things to be avoided at all costs. Charles is up to his neck grading papers when there’s a knock at his door, which for one blissful moment, he thinks might be the Chinese food he’d ordered twenty or so minutes earlier. But no, it’s still early for that and when he looks down at the time, he remembers who’s actually at the door.  _ Erik _ . Because of course Erik is at the door. It’s Wednesday at six and they’d planned to meet up. 

 

Charles looks at all the work spread out on his table and swears under his breath. Even if he didn’t have dinner on its way, he’s not prepared at all for a night with Erik. He’d somehow managed to completely forget he had this appointment. It’s amazingly foolish and Charles is livid with himself for being so forgetful. There’s no ignoring it, though, as he can’t very well leave Erik waiting at the door. Time to face up to his shame, it seems. 

 

He puts the cap back on his pen and goes to open the door for Erik. He smiles apologetically at Erik as he opens the door and wished Erik didn’t always look so incredibly gorgeous. “Hello, Erik. Why don’t you come in? I’m afraid I forgot about our appointment.” 

 

“Oh. Does that mean I should step it up and be more exciting?” Erik teases. “Can’t have you forgetting about me.” 

 

Charles laughs at that as he closes the front door. If only Erik knew how incredibly excited even the thought of him leaves him. It’s like being a teenage boy again. Those were years Charles was more than happy to leave behind and here’s Erik, making him relive them all over again. He made his way back to his table, stacking up papers again to make space for Erik. He can’t say for sure whether Erik expects him to get up to their normal sort of things today, if perhaps a bit delayed from Charles being forgetful, but Charles is all but positive he doesn’t have it in him. He considers for a second just pretending otherwise, like everything’s fine and he’ll be good to go sooner rather than later, but Erik’s always been able to see right through him. 

 

“I feel terrible having you come all the way out here just for this, but I usually get ready before you get here and since I forgot, well…” Charles sighs, shrugging. “I don’t think I’ll be doing much of anything tonight.”

 

“I’m in no rush, if you’re concerned about making me wait,” Erik reassures him, taking a seat at the table across from Charles. 

 

Charles smiles. “No, I didn’t think you would be. You’re always very patient. But I really am just in a different sort of mindset tonight. Ready for work and grading, not sex. I’m sorry.” 

 

“No, no, it’s okay. Don’t apologize,” Erik insists. “That’s really no problem at all. We can reschedule, if you want. Or I can just reimburse you for tonight.” 

 

“No. God, no. You’ve already set aside this night for me and made your way here. Not a chance I won’t compensate your time properly for tonight,” he says. It’s not as though he can’t afford it, what with his family’s fortune, and his money is far better in Erik’s hands than his, he thinks. 

 

Erik scoffs. “Oh, no need to be a gentlemen, Charles. I’d feel guilty taking your money for nothing but a half an hour subway ride.”

 

“Well…” Charles thinks back to the food he delivered. He always orders far more than just food for one, for the sake of having leftovers to live off when he’s feeling lazy. There’d be more than enough for Erik. But… is that crossing a line? Breaking some sort of unspoken rule? He’s already started the thought, though, so Charles finishes it, even if he’s terrified it’ll send Erik running. “I ordered dinner not so long ago. It’ll probably get here soon, if… If you’d like to stay, there’s enough for two. We can have dinner together, chat for a while. Just a friendly evening.” 

 

“Would you like that?” Erik asks, betraying nothing at all about his inclinations from his face and body language. Charles could easily get a feel for it in his head, of course, but that feels like cheating and a horrific invasion of privacy. 

 

Charles knows exactly what he wants, of course, but just like when they’d texted, that hadn’t been his question. “I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to, but that wasn’t what we agreed on initially. I don’t want you to think you have to do this because I already paid you to come over. I’d love having you over for dinner, but only if you want to. It’s not quite the same otherwise.” 

 

“Aren’t I the one supposed to be making those speeches?” Erik teases. “You’re just as stubborn as I am, Charles. Sure, I’d love to stay for dinner.” 

 

“Can I talk you into that wine today?” Charles asks, hoping it comes across as more hospitable than demanding. 

 

“Sure. I’ll let myself get the whole Charles Xavier treatment.” Erik laughs. “How about you clear off the table and I’ll get two glasses for us?” 

 

Charles agrees and starts putting his papers away properly, so nothing gets lost or smudged from their food or wine. He directs Erik as to where the wine is, as well as giving a few suggestions, but mostly leaves it up to him to decide what they’ll be having. It seems like the least he can do after changing up Erik’s night at the last minute. He doesn’t know what to make of any of this. 

 

It’s startlingly close to a date. Except, it really isn’t, because Charles is still paying for it. A date he’s paid for? That’s not entirely unheard of, Charles knows, but it definitely leaves him in a different sort of spot with Erik than simply someone he has paid sex with a few times a week. He starts to think this might have not been so good an idea after all, but the invitation has already been made and there’s a knock at the door, the delivery man, no doubt, so there’s nothing to be done about it now. Charles will just have to deal with the night, however awkward or overly revealing it might wind up being. At least he’s fairly confident in knowing that Erik will be nothing but professional all night long. 

 

He comes to the table with the food on his lap, which he sets up in the middle, along with plates for the both of them. Real plates and Chinese takeout probably don’t go together very well, but neither does wine. They’re clearly both leaning into the absurdity of the situation. Charles lets Erik pour the wine for them, noting with a pleased hum that Erik had made an excellent choice for them. He tells him as such, which he notices makes Erik flush and preen at the compliment. Truly, Charles will never cease to be amazed with how well Erik acts at his job. Because why would anyone look so pleased at receiving a compliment from him of all people? 

 

“I can honestly say this is the nicest wine and Chinese food evening I’ve had in a while,” Erik says, raising his glass to toast with Charles. 

 

“Cheers,” he agrees. “Does that mean you’ve had wine and Chinese food evenings before?” 

 

“Well, my roommate and I are more partial to Indian food and champagne, but something like that, yes.” Erik winks at him and - oh. 

 

Charles truly is in far deeper than he should have ever allowed. No wonder Moira had been worried about how his poor heart would fare in all of this. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a quick note, I’m leaving with some cousins until the end of July and I have one chapter written ahead but I can’t 100% promise I’ll write on the same scale as normal. Thanks for understanding! :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: negative assumptions of sex workers, food, alcohol

This isn’t very appropriate. Erik is perfectly aware of that. It’s not like this is the first time he’s ever been to a client’s house for something other than sex, but usually, it’s planned out in advance. Not just… something that happens. And definitely not from someone that Erik’s already been having less than professional thoughts about it. It’s a one way road to disaster, Erik’s very clear on that, but he’d still like to think that he can reel this back in before it spirals out of control. The best way to do that is to act like normal and normally, Erik wouldn’t be double thinking a simple dinner with a client so much. He can deal with this once he’s off the clock, with Magda and a few drinks. 

 

Erik makes a plate for himself, avoiding the pork dish and filling a plate of mostly fried rice and spring rolls for himself. It’s not at all what he had in mind for the night and he’d had a late lunch, thinking he wouldn’t be having dinner until after ten when he left Charles’ place, but this is fine, too. It’s probably a lot better than whatever leftovers or instant ramen Erik would have thrown together for himself at home. 

 

“This is a bit awkward, isn’t it?” Charles asks, sighing as he finishes off his first glass of wine. 

 

Up to now, Erik thought they’d been in rather comfortable silence, but it seems not. He shakes his head, even if he’d just been having second thoughts. “Of course not. It’s whatever you make of it. Though, I’ll head out if you’ve changed your mind about me staying, of course. No hard feelings.”

 

“Goodness no. I won’t send you out just after I’ve told you to stay. I’m just acting a bit silly. That’s all.” Charles sighs, and though Erik wants to tell him to not worry so much and that it’s fine to change his mind, he can tell Charles isn’t done talking just yet, so he keeps quiet. Sure enough, Charles continues after a few moments of pondering. “Is this very out of the ordinary for you?”

 

“Not particularly. It’s not so rare for me to get hired to do things beyond just sex,” Erik explains. It’s the truth, but he would have probably said so regardless, given how uncomfortable Charles seems to be with himself for changing their plans. Erik might find the whole situation a bit awkward as well, but not at all for the reasons Charles seems to think, and he doesn’t want to let that thinking get much further along. 

 

Charles nods slightly. “I had figured as much. What… sort of things? If you don’t mind me asking, of course. I don’t imagine little chats over Chinese food is really all that common.” 

 

“No, you’re right in that one,” Erik agrees, chuckling. “Lots of things here and there. Some people want handsome dates to galas and events, others want to give some non-sexual kink a shot without anymore emotional vulnerability than necessary, some people are honestly just lonely and want some company. One particularly exciting night, this awkward kid in Brooklyn paid me fifty bucks to model for his sketches, and then his roommate paid me a hundred to pretend I had to cancel last minute so the roommate could swoop in and save the day. I’m pretty sure they hooked up and, hey, easy money.”

 

“That is… a lot more exciting than anything I do at work,” Charles remarks, letting out a startled laugh. 

 

“If it makes you feel better, my ‘normal’ life is definitely not as exciting as my night life,” he offers. 

 

“Oh?” Charles tries - and fails miserably, though Erik won’t tell him that - to act less interested than he actually is. “What is it, anyway? Your day job, I mean.” 

 

“I’m a law student. Mostly, it involves long nights, too much caffeine, and the ever present craving for death,” Erik explains. 

 

Charles laughs and Erik is glad to see him start to relax. “Of course you’re in law school. Probably planning on tearing half the city down in a courtroom then fleeing amidst the chaos and overtaking a small country for yourself.” 

 

“Not so bad an idea.” Erik laughs. He can’t deny he’s fantasized about having his own country someday, some sort of safe haven for mutantkind. The chances of that are slim  “We’ll see. I came here to study because as much as I love Berlin, nothing at all can compare to New York when it comes to mutant life. Still don’t know if I’ll stay, though. Or what I’ll do, to be honest. As much as I’d like to say I’ll dedicate my life to nonprofits fighting for mutant rights, activism doesn’t always pay the bills.” 

 

“Understandable. That’s… very interesting. I assumed you didn’t do this all day, but that’s really quite the standard thing you spend your days doing. More so than I expected.” Charles flinches a second later, his brain apparently catching up to his words. “I didn’t mean it like that, Erik. I’m sorry.” 

 

Erik shrugs. It’s not as though he hasn’t heard much worse.  “I know what you meant. It’s not exactly the first thing that comes to mind, you’re right. Last guy to find out asked me how I could be a law student if I was breaking the law, like he wasn’t a state senator also breaking the law.” 

 

“Goodness. I hope I’m not a story like that you tell other people,” Charles says, laughing awkwardly to hide the real tinge of nerves Erik can see in him. 

 

“No. You’re much nicer. Much prettier, too,” Erik tells him. 

 

In reward, Charles turns a very satisfying shade of red and mumbles something incomprehensible as he focuses on his food. Erik lets him, mostly amused to keep a quiet eye on him. Charles is easy to rile up like that, probably because of how unused to it he is, but Erik has a feeling in a few months, he’ll have grown more than accustomed to such comments. If not from Erik, then certainly from the wave of people who’d be banging down his door when he started putting himself out there again. Really. Smart, cute,  _ and  _ a mutant? Erik could only imagine him being more of a catch if he was Jewish, and that probably wasn’t high on most people’s priorities. 

 

They eat in silence for a while, but Erik doesn’t sense any sort of discomfort coming from Charles, which he’ll take as a good sign. If he cares a bit more about Charles’ comfort than most of his clients, he just tells himself it’s because Charles is a mutant and he cares more about mutants. That’s all. He can already feel that lie crumbling around him, but he’s not going to deal with it until he’s back home with Magda. Better to simply compartmentalize for the moment. 

 

When they’ve finished eating, Erik stands and starts gathering up the plates and wine glasses. “Can I go wash this up for you, Charles?” 

 

“While I would normally be appalled at being such a terrible host, midterms wear out my soul like nothing else, so I’ll accept help anywhere it comes,” he agrees, nodding. “Thank you, Erik. You’re wonderful, you know that?” 

 

“I’ve been told once or twice,” he teases. 

 

Erik takes everything to the sink and busies himself washing up. He looks around the kitchen for a quick minute, taking note of where everything is stored, and even puts all the dishes away once they’re dried. He likes being useful. What’s the harm of helping out a client he gets along with? It’s a win win situation, he tells himself, not just a selfish little thing. Obviously. When he’s finished, Erik goes back to the table, where Charles is still grading papers. It looks tedious and Erik is reminded of the soul crushing boredom of writing terrible term papers. He can’t imagine it’s much better reading through dozens of them. 

 

“You got a lot of those left to get through?” Erik asks. 

 

Charles sighs, flipping through them for a moment. “Yes. I’ll probably get another half hour done today and then call it a night. No point trying to marathon through the whole thing in one go. My brain cells will deteriorate.” 

 

“I almost feel like I should call up all my old professors and apologize for all the shitty work I’ve handed in.” Erik laughs. 

 

“I’m sure they’re not as bad as you think they were if you’ve made it this far. These are mostly freshmen in introductory courses they couldn’t care less about,” he explains. Charles looks up at him and for a moment, Erik thinks his whole world might be leading up to Charles’ blue eyes right here and now. Then Charles starts to speak again and Erik manages to hold it back just long enough to come to his senses. “You don’t have to stay. It was very kind of you to have dinner with me, but I’m sure there’s better ways for you to spend a few unexpectedly free hours.”

 

What he should do: get out of here and enjoy a paid night off.

 

What he actually does: shake his head and stay put where he’s sitting. 

 

“I don’t have anywhere else to be, Charles. This night was already set aside for you, no matter what the activity might be. I can keep you company while you do your work,” Erik offers.

 

Charles laughs softly. “I wouldn’t be very good company, I’m afraid. I’m terribly quiet and boring while doing my grading.” 

 

“That’s all right.” Erik shrugs. Before he can think twice about it, he asks, “Ever done your grading with a pretty boy at your feet?” 

 

He probably shouldn’t have said anything like that, but the way Charles turns incredibly red makes it more than worth his effort. “I can’t say I have, no.” 

 

Erik raises a curious eyebrow at him and shrugs. “Well, I’ll be here if you get creative.” 

 

He probably shouldn’t have made any comments to begin with or goad Charles along like this when he’s busy, but it’s a bit late for that, so Erik settles for not doing anything until Charles is the one to actually ask. Even if it does mean they sit there in silence for a few minutes and Erik is left to scroll through his phone and wonder if perhaps he’s finally said too much. Just when he’s about to start apologizing for being so forward, Charles clears his throat and puts his pen down. Erik looks up at him curiously. 

 

“Perhaps you could come over here and I can play with your hair for a while?” he requests shyly. “I get a bit restless while grading sometimes.”

 

“Of course.” Erik smiles and is really all too happy to get up and go over to Charles’ side. He gets down on his knees next to Charles and glances up at him. “Is here all right, baby?” 

 

“However you’re comfortable,” Charles says, reaching out and running his fingers through Erik’s hair. 

 

“I’m comfortable. It’s cozy down here,” he promises, leaning up against Charles’ knee.

 

“You fit in just perfectly right there,” Charles says. He keeps toying with Erik’s hair while he goes back to his grading and Erik is taken aback by how quickly he agrees that he fits nicely down here at Charles’ side. 

  
  


\-----

 

“I need a boyfriend.” 

 

It’s the first thing Erik says when he gets home to Magda. Granted, Erik has a certain fondness for dramatic entrances, but he can always trust Magda to know when he’s being ridiculous and when he’s moments away from catapulting into a quarter life crisis. The fact that he immediately goes to the fridge to retrieve two beers is a helpful factor in figuring out what’s wrong with him today. In their household, it’s a well known fact that wine is for gossiping and beer is for breakdowns. 

 

Magda puts aside her book and accepts the bottle from Erik. It’s hardly her first time dealing with one of his fits. “All right. I’m going to need more details than that, babe.” 

 

“I’m having…  _ feelings  _ I shouldn’t be having around Charles,” he explains. 

 

“Feelings? Oh no, anything but that!” Magda teases. 

 

Erik rolls his eyes. “Oh, shush. You’re focusing on the wrong part of that sentence. Feelings for Charles. My client. Charles, my client, who I shouldn’t have feelings for because I’m a professional.” 

 

Magda takes a few pensive sips of her beer, mulling it over. Finally, she says, “Charles sounds nice from everything you’ve told me about him. What’s wrong with liking Charles?” 

 

“I don’t get involved with clients, Magda. That’s practically rule number one,” Erik reminds her. “And yes, Charles is very nice, which is why I don’t want to ruin the perfectly professional relationship we have together. One nice regular out of the schedule is one potentially annoying new person. I’m sure it’s nothing about Charles specifically, it’s just been so long since I had a proper boyfriend, I’m starting to see things everywhere.” 

 

“Aren’t you the one always going on about how rules are meant to be broken? I think Charles would make a lovely boyfriend. A fun few dates, at least.” She shrugs.

 

“No. Nope. Not a chance. Charles is off the market,” Erik insists. He’s sure a date with Charles would be a wonderful time. He would probably take them somewhere stupidly charming and old fashioned and get embarrassed at the littlest things and they’d argue about politics all through dinner, then spend all night in bed together. It’d be perfect. And then it would inevitably crash and burn and Erik would lose one of his favorite clients, probably in an ugly way. He’s not going to do that to either of them. 

 

Magda rolls her eyes, which Erik swats at her leg for. Rude. “It’s not like you know very many nice guys.” 

 

“I don’t,” he agrees. “Which is why I need your help finding a boyfriend. Try to keep up, love, or I’ll have to find another crisis coach.” 

 

“Life with you is like a soap opera that never stops giving. Though I’ll be honest, I’m starting to reevaluate whether it’s really all worth it,” Magda says, snorting softly. 

 

Erik scoffs. “Don’t be so dramatic. Are you onboard with helping me find a boyfriend or not? Because if not, I’ll have to rely entirely on Emma’s matchmaking skills and we both know that’s more likely to end up in disaster than anything else.” 

 

“Fine. But you’re in charge of kashering the kitchen for Pesach this year,” she decides. 

 

“Deal.” 

 

Neither of them has anything urgently do the very next day, so they turn Breakdown Beer Night into Gossip Beer Night slash Analyze Candidates for Erik’s Boyfriend Night. Erik doubts he’ll end up in a very serious relationship from this. At most, he thinks he might find himself a bit of a fling, but that should be enough to stave off whatever’s brought on this strange sort of pining. It’s not like Charles is the first client he’s ever been attracted to. It was just a matter of bad timing, that’s all. Erik’s in the midst of a particularly long dry spell, not counting work. It’s starting to skew his thinking, getting him to see things where there’s nothing and make a mountain out of a molehill. 

 

In Magda’s attempts of making him feel better, they spend a while making up nightmare scenarios of what Charles might be like as a boyfriend. He probably snores and leaves his dirty laundry all over the place, is Magda’s suggestion. Erik already knows he’s an integrationist, so he spins some wild tale about Charles going to church every Sunday and working in some strange Christian mutant-human outreach program dedicated to forming faux friendships between their kind. It helps, even if only slightly. Truthfully, it makes Erik feel a little guilty to be talking about Charles behind his back like this, but he rationalizes it by deciding this is probably nothing at all what Charles is like in real life. It’s not Charles he’s thinking of, it’s a cardboard cutout of his imagination designed to harbor all his sexual frustrations who, in an unfortunate twist of fate, shares a name with Charles.

 

That’s all. Nothing to worry about. He and Magda will find some handsome boy to distract him for a few weeks and they’ll go back to everything as it once was, no strange thoughts creeping in while he works. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in classic Lehnsherr fashion, Erik starts getting the right idea and then immediately does the opposite
> 
> I posted a little update on my Tumblr as to what the next week or so might look like and will continue to update as things get strange, so feel free to hop over there if you're curious as to what my schedule will look like


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early chapter because I'll be gone all day tomorrow. Enjoy!
> 
> CW: alcohol mention, food mention

Charles and religion have a complicated relationship. To begin with, he’s never quite been a believer. His mother had dragged him along for Easter and Christmas and all that, but even then, he knew she only did it because it was expected of proper families. Nothing to do with faith. At most, Charles had been indifferent as a child. His distinctly negative opinion of it all had come after his injury. He’d been suddenly inundated by strangers telling him everything was a part of God’s plan or approaching him in public to pray over him. It’s an aggressive sort of condescension Charles had never experienced while fully abled. 

 

So no. Charles doesn’t have the best of opinions about God and his ‘plan’. Still, he’s not entirely an asshole. He knows not everyone is like those people who’d come out of the woodworks when he’d been injured. Gabrielle is perfectly lovely, nothing like the evangelical vultures he’s met in the past He wouldn’t ever dream of being so rude as to reject her invitation to join her family for Passover. Even if he is currently sat in front of his bedroom mirror, fidgeting with his shirt collar and wondering if it’s too late to call in sick. Raven’s already called to say she’s waiting downstairs, so unfortunately, yes, it is already a bit too late. 

 

Charles checks his hair one last time to quell the nerves and heads downstairs. Raven’s standing there with Hank and Irene, looking slightly annoyed that she’s been kept waiting. “Sorry,” Charles apologizes. “I got held up waiting on the elevator.” That’s not true, but most people are too worried about seeming insensitive to question that excuse too much. 

 

“Sure. You’re lucky Irene’s very charming and kept the taxi driver from leaving,” Raven says. 

 

“Of course. Thank you, Irene,” he says meekly, all too aware that they’ve only met a handful of disastrous times. He wheels himself forward to start loading his chair onto the cab and spares a thought for Erik, wondering how much simpler this would be with his mutation. Charles is suddenly very glad he’s the only telepath in the group. He doesn’t need to be caught thinking about Erik all the time. 

 

Charles passes on the Haller’s address to the driver and sits mostly in silence, letting Raven do most of the talking. She’s always been far better at small talk than him and certainly now that the only people in the car are her brother and partners. Charles nods along whenever it seems appropriate, but mostly just stares out the window and stresses about the whole event. 

 

He’d had a bit of a crush on Gabrielle once. He’d never done anything about it for obvious reasons, but perhaps he can try tonight at her party. Maybe that’s the sort of thing he needs to get his mind off Erik and maybe he actually has the sort of confidence he needs for that sort of thing now. 

 

He certainly hopes so. 

 

\----

 

Charles isn’t really sure what to expect from a seder. The internet had been largely unhelpful and hadn’t had an event in mind like the one the Hallers are hosting. He’s no longer sure whether or not Gabrielle had been joking when she’d said half the Jews in New York City are invited to this thing. The seder is being held in an event room large enough that Charles is sure even his mother would be impressed by it. Any fear of having to awkwardly mingle with strangers is eased slightly. In his experience, the larger a guest list, the more impersonal the event is. Charles is sure he can get away with sticking close to his friends for the night. 

 

Gabrielle almost certainly has superpowers, from the way she darts between group and group to play the perfect host and still manages to spot Charles the second he walks in with his little group. She waves at them and in the span of thirty seconds, wraps up her current conversation and all but teleports to their side. His mother would  _ definitely  _ be impressed. 

 

“Hey! I’m so happy you could all make it!” she exclaims, giving them all hugs to greet them. Even Hank, who isn’t quite the hugging type. “I set aside a table for the four of you. I’ll be table hopping all night long, but I’ll definitely sit with you some of the time.” 

 

“It’s no worries at all. I’m sure you’re busy at work being the perfect daughter and all that,” Charles teases, knowing all too well how exhausting all those parental expectations can be. 

 

“Something like that,” Gabrielle agrees, grinning at him. “I’ll be around more for the party.” 

 

Hank fiddles with his glasses nervously and Charles wonders, not for the first time, how he ever ended up with someone like Raven. “In the meantime… Are there any ground rules we should know? Big taboos to avoid and all that?” 

 

“Just follow along the Haggadah and you should be fine. I can move a couple of friends to your table to help, though. They’re more or less our age, have no family in the party, and are coming to the party later, so they’re probably the perfect Jews for all of you to pair up with,” she offers. 

 

“Oh, well, I mean, we certainly don’t want to intrude or anything of that sort,” Hank says. 

 

“Eh, I’ve been having trouble with their seating arrangement anyway, so you’d probably be doing me a favor,” Gabrielle insists, shrugging. “I’ll go move around the name cards. You’re on Table 14, by the way!” 

 

And with that, she heads off again, back to her hosting duties. Charles is sure they’ll see her again and that they’ll be fine for a bit without her around, but he can’t help but feel a bit awkward. He’s not just the odd one out in the religious ceremony, but in their group, as well. After all, everyone else with them is either his sister or dating his sister. It’s not exactly ideal. Still, Charles knows he can be dramatic about these things. He’s sure the night will get better once everything isn’t so foreign. 

 

He spots Table 14 and wheels off to their table. Gabrielle’s already cleared a spot without a chair where his nametag was, so Charles goes to park his chair there. One of the many staff members helping with the event comes by to switch out two of the nametags and Charles reaches forward to see who they are while everyone else gets settled. A certain  _ Max Eisenhardt  _ and  _ Magda Maximoff.  _ Charles doesn’t know either of them and there’s really no reason he should, but he figured he’d check just in case. If one of the old money folks his mother frequented with was here, he’d much prefer to know in advance. Even the ones his age can be just as insufferable as their parents. 

 

“No one who’d make an appearance at an Xavier shindig, right?” Raven asks, taking her seat next to Charles. 

 

Charles shakes his head. “We’re safe for the moment, it seems.” 

 

“Safe from all the big, scary socialites that might come prey on the little Xavier children?” Irene teases, grinning in their direction. 

 

“You wouldn’t joke about it if you’d had to go to all the same parties as Charles and me,” Raven assures her. “It was a champagne fueled nightmare.” 

 

Charles lets them bicker between themselves, occupying himself with flipping through the Haggadah instead. He’d like to have some idea what he’s getting into. It doesn’t make him much more confident, considering how it seems to go on forever and Charles doesn’t understand most of it, but the scholar in him has always liked reading ahead. He’s so busy trying to refresh his memory on the Exodus that he hardly notices when their table gains a new member. He looks up when Raven not so subtly nudges his shoulder and he raises his head just in time to shake hands with the young woman who’s joined them. Magda, he presumes. 

 

“Hello,” she says, smiling politely at the rest of them. “I’m Magda. Gabrielle and I attend the same shul. She mentioned I’d be sitting with some friends of hers from university.” 

 

“Indeed we are. Gabrielle mentioned you, though she neglected to mention how beautiful our new table mate would be.” Charles takes her hand and leans forward to press a kiss to her knuckles. Flirting with strangers has always been, despite everything, one thing he excels at.  

 

Raven is as enthusiastic about it as normal. That is to say, not at all. “Charles, you dog, you can’t reel it in for a few hours? Sorry, Magda, my brother doesn’t know how to behave in public, clearly.” 

 

Magda laughs as she takes her seat. “Oh, it’s fine. Very charming. I’m more than used to it, either way. Max is exactly the same. He’ll be joining us soon, he’s just the sort who shows up late to his own funeral.”

 

“You can tell your boyfriend that I have no ill intentions, I’m just friendly,” Charles promises. 

 

“Boyfriend? Thankfully not.” Magda snorts. “Max is a friend, nothing more. He’s practically my brother. Besides, his type looks a little more like you than me, Charles.” 

 

“Maybe Gabrielle was hoping to do a bit of matchmaking,” Irene suggests, laughing. Charles always worries when she makes comments like that, but he decides not to comment too much on it. Nothing good ever comes from finding out about her visions when she hasn’t offered information. 

 

“Does she try that with you, as well? Good to know it’s not just us unfortunate singles in her shul,” Magda laughs. “Oh, there comes Max now. Not as late as expected. Max! Max, we’re over here!” 

 

Charles glances in the direction she’s waving and is horrified to see Erik walking over. 

 

He blinks a few times and reaches up to rub his eyes, making sure he’s not starting to hallucinate or anything of the sort. That’s… Well, it’s not impossible, now that Charles thinks about it. Erik is Jewish, it’s not surprising he’s attending a seder. What are the chances, though, that it’s the same one Charles has been invited to? Charles isn’t sure whether to throw up, run away, or act dumb. Perhaps all three at the same time. 

 

Charles can tell the moment Erik spots him. There’s a brief flash of panic that crosses over his face, but it’s gone almost as quickly as it had showed up. Charles isn’t sure if he’s less affected or simply better at hiding it. By the time Erik walks over to their table, nothing about his demeanor suggests that anything’s amiss. If Charles didn’t know better, he would really believe Erik has no idea who he is. 

 

“Max, these are some of Gabrielle’s friends. In Gabby’s words, they’re ‘goyim, but the sweetest kind of goyim’ so she asked us to give them a hand through the seder. Make sure no one dies of horseradish related injuries and that sort of stuff,” Magda explains, standing up to pull Erik into a hug as he approaches the table. “Irene, Hank, Raven, Charles; this is Max. Max, this is Irene, Hank, Raven, and Charles.” 

 

“I can talk for myself, you know? I’m a big boy, don’t need you introducing me,” Erik says, unwinding her arms from around him and going to sit. (Not next to Charles, which Charles hasn’t decided yet whether it’s lucky or not.) “Pleased to meet you all.” 

 

“You’re grumpy and rude when left to your own devices,” Magda insists. 

 

Erik huffs slightly. “Perhaps. Not to prove you right, but I’m going to… um, check on the wine. Gabby mentioned something about needing help unloading some boxes. I’ll be back soon.” 

 

Before anyone can say anything, Erik is up and he leaves the table as quickly as he’d arrived. Charles barely has enough time to get all his thoughts in order and Erik’s already left the table. Maybe he’ll be back, maybe he won’t. Charles has no idea what to think about any of this and he’s left to just sulk quietly at the table. He pulls his phone out to fiddle about uselessly, even if it’s horribly rude, and is only vaguely paying attention while Magda apologizes on her friend’s behalf and makes small talk with the rest of the table. 

 

It turns out to be an excellent decision to start sulking, because it means he doesn’t miss Erik’s incoming text, no longer than a minute after he’s left. 

 

_ {sms} Meet me in the bathroom?  _

 

Charles doesn’t know if that’s the best idea, or if perhaps he should stay here and try to convince himself they actually are strangers. It doesn’t matter, though. Even if Charles was sure going was a terrible idea, he would still do it. He excuses himself from the table, mumbling something about going to the restroom, and wheels off to find it. There’s more than one restroom for the guests, but it’s easy enough to spot Erik’s mind. There’s a unique sort of vibrancy to it that Charles is sure he could find in any crowd. 

 

As soon as he’s wheeled into the restroom, Erik closes the door behind them and bolts it shut with his powers, so they won’t be interrupted. “No one else is in here. I already checked.” 

 

“Oh… Good.” He nods, feeling even more awkward than before. Charles gets a good look at him now, for the first time since arriving. Erik never looks  _ shabby  _ when he comes to see Charles, but he’s also undeniably cleaned up right now, in a smart pair of trousers and a well-ironed blue shirt that matches the kippah on his head. Suddenly, Charles can’t get it off his mind that this is Erik’s space that he’s intruding. Erik’s friends and Erik’s religion and Erik’s culture. He feels ten times sleazier than any of the times they’d gotten together. “If you… want me to leave, I can, of course. I can say something came up and head out. No one else with me knows anything about me knowing you, so… it’d just be normal.” 

 

“Don’t worry about that. I definitely didn’t expect to see you here, but I’m not going to kick you out or anything,” Erik promises, shaking his head. He hops up to sit at the edge of the sink. Charles has a feeling that he’s not sure what to say next, just like Charles. 

 

“So…” He laughs awkwardly. “Is this as awkward for you as it is for me?” 

 

Erik chuckles awkwardly. “Well… I can’t say I’ve ever run into a client at a seder, no. So… maybe it is, yes. It’s not your fault, though.” 

 

“I’m very sorry, Erik,” he apologizes. Then, after remembering the name tags and what Magda had called him, frowns. “Or… Max, is it?” 

 

“Ah. Erik Lehnsherr is… a bit of a stage name, I suppose? Max is my birth name,” he explains. 

 

“Oh. Should I… I can call you Max from now on, if you’d like?” Charles offers. 

 

“Erik is fine. I’ve gone by Erik probably just as much as Max. Besides Magda and the people at shul, I think everyone who calls me Max is still back in Germany,” Erik assures him. 

 

Charles nods slowly. “Okay. I’ll try to call you Max here, at least. To not cause any confusion with your friend.” 

 

“Magda knows what I do,” Erik clarifies. “In case you were wondering. She won’t bring it up, though. Don’t worry. And your friends won’t find out. Just, uh, you know, don’t worry that you’re exposing my double life or something if you accidentally call me Erik.” 

 

“Okay… And you’re sure you don’t want me to excuse myself from this whole event?” Charles asks again, because he’s embarrassed at the possibility of Magda connecting the dots and she’s not even his friend. He can’t imagine what Erik feels like. 

 

“Absolutely positive, Charles,” Erik promises, nodding. “I guess we should head back to the table now. Separately, unless you want to answer some possibly intrusive questions.” 

 

Charles nods, agreeing, and waits for Erik to unlock the door before he wheels away. He goes back to the table and a few minutes later, Erik joins them again. No one says anything about their joint absence, though Magda does give him an odd look for the briefest of moments. Charles ignores it and hopes it doesn’t actually mean anything. 

 

He’s never been so happy to have a religious event start as when Gabrielle’s father turn on the microphone and begins the seder. Everyone distracted with the seder means they have an excuse not to talk amongst themselves. Normally, Charles is a very chatty person and loves nothing more than small talk with friends. At a Jewish holiday with his sister, friends, and sex partner for hire? Charles would much prefer they be preoccupied with something else. The most challenging part, by far, is when they have a break to eat. Eating means no one is reading anything means the space is clear for conversation. Luckily, this is also the moment Gabrielle chooses to join them and between all of them at the table, there’s plenty of not awkward, not sexual chat to be made that doesn’t involve Erik and Charles possibly letting slip that they’re not as unknown to each other as they pretend to be.

 

By the end of the seder, they’re all a little buzzed on the wine and far more comfortable with each other than when they’d began. Even between Charles and Erik, Charles is no longer so paranoid of doing something that will get them discovered. If they’re a little too familiar with one another, he can blame the alcohol, after all. Just like he’ll blame the alcohol if anyone brings up the way Charles had stared at Erik through half the event, like a hopelessly besotted child. Who can blame him? Charles used to be sure nothing is better than the sight of Erik in his bed, undressed and flushed and sweaty from sleeping together. Now, though, he knows that the best sight in the world is Erik without a single care, singing along to all the melodies and goofing off with his friend. Charles isn’t sure what’s more endearing. The way Erik downs a spoonful of horseradish based on a dare with Magda or the way they giggle all through Dayenu, reminiscing about Passovers from their childhood. Charles is helpless all three hours of the seder. Still, he can blame it on the wine, can’t he? 

 

So much for taking a shot at Gabrielle tonight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will Erik make things worse next chapter before they get better? Yes, of course


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: alcohol, descriptions of past self destructive behaviors, platonic D/s

The seder is not as bad as it could be. In the grand scheme of things, Erik knows this could have gone much worse. Charles could have said something the second they’d seen each other. Made some sort of rude, inappropriate comment, perhaps. Or be the sort who would rather not interact with Erik at all outside of their paid time together. He’s not, though. Charles is as awkward and kind as Erik has come to expect from him. It’s the best way this whole thing could have gone. 

 

Or at least, it would have been the best way, if Magda weren’t so damn clever. She eyes him suspiciously all seder along and as soon as it’s over, she pulls him away from the table, under the guise of saying hello to one of the old ladies from their shul. Erik knows better. He’s not the least bit surprised when she ends up taking him to a shadowy corner to frantically whisper at him.

 

“That’s your Charles, isn’t it? Charles from work?” she asks.

 

There’s no point lying, so Erik just sighs. “He is. Don’t be weird, okay? He’s a good guy. And he’s a mutant, so when the race war comes, I’ll save his life before yours.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what you always say.” She rolls her eyes. “He’s even cuter than you said. Come on, let’s go make sure he’s coming to the party.”

 

“Wait! No. What?” Erik barely has time to process what she says before she’s run off again, back to their table. He rushes over as quickly as he can without seeming like he’s concerned about anything at all, but it’s too late by the time he gets there. Magda is a determined woman. 

 

“You four are going to Gaby’s party, I hope?” she says, not so subtly sitting right next to Charles.

 

“She might kill us if we don’t,” Hank agrees. He looks a bit queasy at the thought, like he suspects Gabrielle might actually hunt them down. Which is ridiculous. Probably.

 

“Great! We can head over together,” Magda suggests. “Max and I are just about to go catch the train. Why don’t you come with us?” 

 

“Oh, um…” Charles glances to Erik nervously and Erik petends he saw nothing at all. “That’s a very kind offer, but the subway is a bit difficult for me. Because of the chair. We’ll likely see you there, though.” 

 

“Max could help with the chair, I’m sure. Or we could catch a cab with you,” she insists. 

 

Charles thinks for another moment before nodding slowly. “Well… If you’re truly so determined, we can give the subway a try with Max’s abilities.” 

 

“Lovely. Would you mind giving me a moment with Magda before we head out?” Erik doesn’t wait for a reply before he grabs Magda by the hand and tugs them over to a corner. Once he’s sure they won’t be easily overheard, he frowns down at her and hisses, “What’s that about?” 

 

“Just giving you a push in the right direction, darling.” Magda shrugs. 

 

“Magda.” Erik groans and resists the urge to bang his head up against the wall. “Don’t be weird, okay? Charles doesn’t deserve it.” 

 

“Oh, sure.  _ I’m  _ the one being weird.” 

  
  


\---------

 

The subway ride could be worse. It could have been much better, but at this point, Erik will enjoy every small blessing he gets. They’re heading to Gaby’s place in a group, leaving no time for Charles and Erik to get caught up with just each other, left to figure out how to act around one another in this context. It’ll come up eventually, he’s sure, but Erik would prefer they talk in Charles’ apartment by themselves,  _ not  _ a subway car with their friends. 

 

They’re both mostly quiet while Magda and Charles’ friends talk. Erik doesn’t know what to make of that. Charles probably feels as lost as Erik does, but there’s always a chance he’s upset about the whole thing. Erik wants to ignore it and go about his business as usual, but even just the possibility of Charles’ upset with him fills Erik with a strange sort of ache in his chest. When they reach their stop, Erik lets the rest of the group walk ahead and goes slow as he navigates Charles’ chair up the stairs.

 

When Erik’s relatively sure they won’t be overheard, he leans down closer to Charles. “Hey… Are we still okay?”

 

“Hmm? Yes, Erik, of course,” he says. Quickly, he adds, “Though it’s not too late for me to say I’m feeling a bit worn down and would rather head home. If that’s what you’d prefer.”

 

No matter how confused Erik feels about this whole thing, the one thing he’s sure of is that sending Charles away is the last thing he wants. “Not at all. I just wanted to check. I’m… glad everything’s still okay. Now, we should catch up to the group.”

 

They speed up to catch up to the rest of the group and Erik goes back to walking next to Magda. He’s sure she noticed him lag behind with Charles, but she makes no comment about it, which he’s grateful for. She’s already put him in an awkward enough situation by insisting they head over with Charles. Erik doesn’t need the situation getting any more vulnerable on his end. Gaby all but swoops in to save them when they get to her place and she lets them in. She looks entirely too pleased with herself, but says nothing of the sort as she greets them all with hugs and handshakes. 

 

“I’m glad to see you all getting along. Maybe I should have sat you at the same table from the very beginning,” she says. 

 

“Maybe you have a future as a matchmaker,” Magda suggests, smirking over in Erik’s direction. 

 

Gaby follows her gaze to Erik and shrugs. “Maybe. For now, though, I’d rather focus on my career as a future bartender.” 

 

With that, they’re ushered off towards the kitchen, which is serving as the bar for the night. Erik gets a cheap, plastic cup full of wine pressed into his hand and decides he’s probably better not thinking about it too much. He’s already got a buzz from the seder and no matter how strange he feels getting drunk when a client is around, Charles isn’t here as a client. He’s just here as a friend. Person. Coincidence. Whatever reason.

 

Getting a bit drunk is probably the best option right now. Magda doesn’t second guess it at all. She just grabs the wine and heads off with her new friends to dance. She’s always been quick at making friends. It’s a miracle she decides to be friends with him despite it all. One Erik is grateful for, even if she does get him caught up in situations like this. 

 

Erik takes a small sip of his wine and looks over at Charles, also lingering in the kitchen while the rest of his group goes off with Magda. “Not going to dance?”

 

“I’m almost afraid of what else I’ll get roped into if I’m near Raven while she’s drinking,” Charles explains.

 

“Sounds like we should take care to make sure your Raven and my Magda don’t get too close,” he snorts. Erik holds up his little plastic cup and clinks it against Charles’. “Cheers to our overzealous friends, I suppose.” 

 

“Cheers to that,” he agrees, tilting his wine up for a long drink of it. 

 

Erik joins him and knocks his cup back to down the wine he has left. As soon as it’s gone, he takes Charles’ cup and refills it for the both of them. “We might as well head out to dance and mingle. Go of our own will instead of get dragged off later.” 

 

Charles agrees, even if he’s not exactly enthusiastic, and wheels off to the living room area with Erik. Gaby’s apartment is huge, but it’s crowded, nonetheless. Erik can’t see Magda and Charles’ friends around, no matter how many rounds he makes around the apartment. He begins to suspect it’s being done on purpose after the third time he spots Magda across the room, only to have her disappear by the time he makes his way across to her. 

 

Fine. Erik can survive a night on his own, if Magda wants to play games like this. Charles, too,  since his sister and friends are playing the same disappearing game. (Surviving a night together might be more difficult, but no need to start up a panic just yet.) Charles agrees this is exactly the sort of thing Raven would do and they both refill their drinks to survive all of this. They might as well dance if all their companions have decided to abandon them for the evening. Everyone at the party is either dancing in the common areas or having drunken chats in the kitchen, so… dancing it is. 

 

Dancing’s not so bad. It’s easier than talking, that much is sure. It’s dark and crowded and loud, so as long as they stay here, hanging out with Charles is no different than hanging out with any of his other friends. No conversations to be had, awkward or not, and nothing to worry about except losing track of time, enjoying their drinks, and getting lost in the music. Erik can do that. He does it, maybe a little too well, judging from the way the world has started to sway and blur not so long after arriving. Perhaps it was one wine too many, but it’s hard to care. 

 

How can he care when the world is at just the right point of topsy turvy and the music’s loud enough to feel in his chest and a handsome man dancing in front of him? It’s unprofessional to want anything out of Charles, but acknowledging that he’s handsome can’t hurt. Someone besides them bumps up against him and Erik stumbles over his feet for a moment before toppling forward, straight onto Charles’ lap. He lets out a soft groan as he adjusts himself, coming face to face with a rather mortified looking Charles. Yes. Definitely too handsome to not acknowledge it. 

 

Through some unholy combination of alcohol, Magda’s bad influence, and Charles looking irresistible from atop his lap, every ounce of common sense in Erik just leaves him. Without thinking twice about acting professional or any sort of consequences, Erik leans forward and kisses him. 

 

He’s kissed Charles before, at work, but doing it here, when no one’s being paid and they can just pretend to be two normal people who’ve happened to run into each other at a party… It’s about a million times better. Erik lets himself ignore his every thoughts for a few seconds, simply making himself cozy on Charles’ lap and appreciating the taste of wine on Charles’ lips. One of his hands goes up, almost of its own accord, and settles on Charles’ shoulder. Instead of leaning in towards him, Charles just goes horribly stiff under his touch and just like that, Erik comes back to his senses. He pulls back, horrified, and stumbles over his words as he hurries off Charles’ lap. 

 

“Oh, Gd. Charles. I…” Erik shakes his head. “I’m very drunk. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Clearly. Um… Sorry. That’s… Definitely shouldn’t kiss you at a party when we’re both drunk.” 

 

Charles’ face goes completely unreadable from one second to the next. Erik just hopes he’s not too upset at him. Just barely loud enough to be heard over the music, Charles says, “It’s… It’s okay. It was an honest mistake. No hard feelings.” 

 

“Yeah… I should probably head home. Take care, Charles.” Erik waves curtly and hurries away, willing himself to not look back to Charles. 

 

He leaves his cup on the first flat surface he finds and nervously wipes his hands off on his jeans. Erik briefly searches the room for Magda, but heads out of the apartment without waiting to find her. He’s not going to linger here. No. No way.

 

It doesn’t matter much in the end. He’s barely made it to the end of the street when she catches up to him, winded from having, no doubt, ran to reach him. “Max! Where the hell are you going?”

 

“Home. You can go back if you want. I’ll make it there on my own,” he says, which is entirely unconvincing with the way he stumbles over the curb while crossing the road. 

 

“Clearly,” Magda remarks. She settles at his side, holding on to his arm to steady him as they walk to the subway station. “Why’d you run off? I saw you and Charles kissing!” 

 

“That’s exactly why I left! I shouldn’t have done that and I hate you for practically manufacturing the whole scenario,” Erik complains. 

 

“You don’t hate me. I was giving you a nudge because you never do anything on your own. I’d have thought the two of you kissing was the best thing that could come out of tonight. You’re like a little infatuated puppy and he clearly likes you, too,” she says. 

 

Erik scoffs softly. “No. He doesn’t. I mean, sure, he’s attracted to me, obviously, but to sleep with under very specific circumstances. That doesn’t mean he wants to make out at a party. People don’t turn around and date their whores, Magda.” 

 

“Max!” she scolds. He has a feeling if they weren’t hurrying down the steps to catch their train, she’d have stopped him to give him one of her Very Stern Disapproving Looks. “Don’t talk like that. He’s a nice guy. I saw how he looked at you all dinner long.” 

 

“Sure, but you didn’t see how uncomfortable he got when we kissed. All stiff and regretful as soon as he realized what he’d done. I’m sure if he’d been sober, he wouldn’t have let me kiss him in the first place.” Erik groans softly and shuffles over to a seat, where he immediately leans his head down to rest on his knees with a pathetic little whimper. 

 

“Seriously? I swear I was getting completely different vibes off him… Well, if he’s attracted to you, but stopping himself for some stupid reason, then he’s an asshole and you deserve better anyway,” she insists. 

 

“Magda,” he mumbles, muffled against his arms, “I don’t want to talk about this right now.” 

 

Mercifully, she agrees to silence for most of their trip, just stroking his hair and back soothingly. He feels nauseous in a way he rarely ever feels while on their subway trips, no matter how drunk he might be. Usually, being surrounded by metal like this is the most soothing feeling in the world. Especially at this hour, when it’s mostly empty on their route home. Then again, Erik knows it’s not really the train making him feel nauseous. 

 

He’s miserable as they get home and he’s sure he looks like it, too. His pride is wounded, though he’s still guilty about having kissed Charles in the first place. It manifests itself into an ugly, nervous energy deep inside him that leaves him restless and angry. When he was younger, he’d always sneak out of his house during these moods and find the most beat up places he could, to pick fights or find the worst kind of men. If he felt terrible, he’d been determined to either fuck it or beat it out of himself, no matter how unkind. Magda would probably kill him if he ever tried to hurt himself like that again and even if she had played a role in starting this whole mess in the first place, she can at least recognize where it’s all gone wrong. 

 

“Come here, Max,” she says as soon as their door is closed, beckoning him to her. Erik shuffles over and as soon as he does, she starts undressing him, soft and gentle as though he were something that deserved that sort of treatment. If anyone asked her, she was probably foolish enough to believe he did. She puts everything away where needed, even crouching down to take off his shoes, so she can leave him in nothing but his undershirt, boxers, and socks. “I’m sorry that I misread Charles and put you in an uncomfortable situation.” 

 

“It’s okay,” Erik mumbles. 

 

“It’s not. But we’ll get you feeling better soon, won’t we? You don’t have to worry about anything until Monday morning. Just hang around being the same goofy best friend you’ve always been for me and I’ll do everything so you won’t have to,” she promises, leaning up on her tip toes to kiss his forehead. (She doesn’t really reach, even when she leans up like that, but Erik had learned long ago to bend down to meet her halfway when she tries to reach him.) “Stay there, I’m going to go fetch you your pajamas.” 

 

She leaves to Erik’s bedroom and Erik stays put where he is, waiting for her to return. Maybe he’s not exactly boyfriend material and maybe he’s succeeded in nothing else but driving Charles away as both customer and possible friend, but at least he doesn’t have to worry about anything while he’s here at home. He has Magda for that and even if she’s just a friend, at least she’s the best sort of friend he could ever hope to have. She comes back and dresses him in his pajamas, which Erik thinks are rather ridiculous. Normally, he’d just sleep in his underwear, but when Magda’s worried about him, she likes to bundle him up and coddle him. 

 

Such as now, when she ushers him off to the kitchen for hot chocolate. Erik thinks it’s all silly, but it’s far easier to grumble about Magda being ridiculous and have that be his only concern than try to function like a semi decent human being while everything inside him feels so strung up. By the time they’re settled in the living room, Magda in her favorite armchair and Erik all cozied up on a cushion next to her leg, the ugly energy deep inside him has calmed down somewhat. Enough that Erik no longer feels like running off in search of pain and anger. 

 

“You can sleep at the foot of my bed if you promise not to throw up on me tomorrow morning,” Magda says, petting his hair gently as she pulls up their Netflix account on the TV and resumes the last show they’d been binge watching together. 

 

Erik snorts softly and leans his head more comfortably against her knee. “I can hold my wine perfectly well, thank you.” 

 

“Of course, Mr. ‘I snuck two glasses in my bar mitzvah party and threw up in my mom’s car’.” Magda smirks down at him.

 

“It was three glasses,” Erik corrects. “And I was thirteen!” 

 

“Sure. Either way, you’re on clean up duty if you do throw up on me,” she says. 

 

“I wouldn’t trust anyone else to get this place clean, not even you, so of course.” Erik lets out a content sigh and turns to face the TV instead of Magda. Regardless, he adds, “And Magda? Um… Thanks. For looking out for me and all.” 

 

“Of course. You know I always will, silly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to reiterate that this is a Cherik fic, regardless of the Erik/Magda moments. I just love them lol However if this has you itching for ore Magda content, feel free to check out my Cherigda fics ;)
> 
> (This update was almost late because my kitties wanted to cuddle. Luckily, they decided to be merciful.)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: stigma against sex workers, alcohol and food mention, sex

It all happened so quickly, Charles hardly had any time to process it at all. One second he was kissing Erik, the next Erik was gone. For a moment, he’s not even sure that he hadn’t simply imagined the whole thing. But the blurred moment passes by and yes, he’s still alone in the middle of the dance floor like some sort of fool, with the taste of Erik still on his lips. He looks around and just barely catches a glimpse of Erik and Magda hurrying out the door. He hadn’t imagined it, then.

 

Charles starts the rather tedious process of wheeling out of the crowd amidst drunken party goers. He manages to make it out of the throng without anyone spilling alcohol on him, which is a small victory amidst a terrible night. Funny enough, he can’t bring himself to feel too grateful about it. Just as he’s made his way to an empty corner, Raven catches up to him, looking the type of concerned that Charles has always hated. It’s the type of pity he’s had to grow used to receiving ever since the accident. 

 

“One second you and Erik were making out and the next he’s running off!” Raven says, as though Charles hadn’t just had the misfortune of living through it himself. “Care to tell me what happened?” 

 

“It’s very complicated, Raven. Go enjoy yourself, I’m heading home,” Charles grumbles. He’s almost sure she can’t hear him over the music, so he projects it into her mind as well, just in case. 

 

Raven frowns. “We’ll go with you, then.” 

 

“As sweet as you are, I’m not quite in the mood at talking with anyone who isn’t you. Go enjoy yourself,” he says again. 

 

She’s always been as stubborn as any baby sibling and she asks him to wait for her as she disappears back amidst people. Charles is a bit of a pushover when it comes to her, so of course, he waits for her, even if he wants nothing more than to go home and crawl under a rock. When she comes back, she fetches both their jackets and walks out with him. 

 

“I explained to Gabrielle we had to leave and told Irene and Hank I’d meet them at home later. I plan on getting all the juicy boy gossip out of you tonight,” Raven insists. 

 

“Lucky me,” he mumbles. 

 

She hails a cab for them and they share an awkward ride home. Mostly, Charles wants to be left alone, but Raven is stubborn and he highly doubts she’d pay attention to him right now, anyway. At the very least, it’s not a long drive. Charles knows to be grateful for the small good things in life. 

 

Upstairs in his apartment, Charles starts on making coffee, because they’re both a bit tipsy and Charles can’t think of anyway to explain that wouldn’t be better done when they’re both sober. Predictably, Raven pesters him the entire time to tell her what had happened between Charles and the handsome Jewish stranger they’d allegedly just met. Charles waits until they’re both seated with their coffee before he begins, though. 

 

“Max and I… well, we’ve actually met before,” Charles confesses. 

 

“ _ What?!”  _ Raven squeals eagerly and pulls her chair closer to Charles. It’s moments like this he’s reminded how young she really is. “Why didn’t either of you say anything? Oh my God, Charles, are you two dating? He’s  _ hot _ !” 

 

“No, Raven. We’re not dating. The truth of the matter is… Well, it’s a bit embarrassing,” Charles mutters. He can feel his cheeks reddening and, damn, the alcohol certainly isn’t helping. 

 

Regardless of how young Raven might act sometimes, Charles has to admit that she’s always been good about knowing when to ease up on her joking. She reaches forward to squeeze one of Charles’ hands. “Whatever it is, I’m sure you can tell me. Is he your ex? Because if he is and he’s hurt you, I will gladly hunt him down.” 

 

Charles laughs, gently endeared, which makes him feel better, even if only slightly. “No, Raven, Max isn’t my ex. He’s… well, Max is a sex worker. Who goes by Erik at work and perhaps I don’t know Max, but I do know Erik.” 

 

“You… know Erik,” Raven repeats slowly. Charles can all but see the gears turning in her head. “Know him in… a biblical sense?” 

 

“...yes,” he admits, because there’s little point in lying now. He’s dug himself into this hole. 

 

“Oh. So, you hired someone to have sex with… and that someone is Erik slash Max who we happened to sit with at Gaby’s seder… cool, cool,” Raven says, though Charles can see in her mind that it is decidedly not ‘cool’. 

 

“It was, perhaps, not my proudest moment, but you know things are complicated because of the accident and, well, it’s the 21st century,” Charles explains, shrugging. He’s horribly embarrassed about the whole thing, but part of him doesn’t want to show it, lest Raven take it as an excuse to be rude about Erik. 

 

“As long as no one’s getting hurt, I guess…” Raven decides. He can tell she’s not entirely comfortable with the subject, but that’s fine. Charles doesn’t want to talk about his sex life with his sister, anyway. “That still doesn’t explain what happened at the party.” 

 

Charles sighs. “I don’t know. He was drunk. I think… Very likely, Erik - Max, whatever - wasn’t thinking straight, forgot I was there as a stranger instead of a client, and thought he had to play up the attraction and kiss me. Simple as that. I was rather shocked myself and by the time I could think straight again, he’d already pulled away.” 

 

“Well, he sounds like an idiot if he’s leading you on like that,” she huffs, scowling. “Are you sure I can’t hunt him down?” 

 

“Raven! Don’t be ridiculous. He did nothing wrong. He just drank a bit too much and let his mind wander. Passover is his holiday and that’s his party before it’s mine. I’m the one intruding, if anyone is,” Charles insists. 

 

Raven sighs. “You’re too soft. Fine. No hunting down the shady hooker with a double life.” 

 

“He’s not…” Charles bites back the rest of his response and decides it’s not his job to go around lecturing the world every time it says less than kind things about Erik. He shouldn’t care this much, anyway. “It doesn’t matter. Perhaps I should text him? Let him know I’m not upset.” 

 

“Charles, I know you’re trying to be your usual sickeningly polite self and all that, but you’re definitely not texting this guy while drunk late at night. It’s one thing to go out and explore a little, totally different to be pining after this guy. And drunk text apologies?” Raven shakes her head. “Totally pining.” 

 

Charles isn’t sure if he agrees with that or not, but he’s not going to fight Raven on this. Not right now. He barely has the energy to finish their coffee together and then send her off on her way home with a promise text him as soon as she’s home. He might feel better about the whole thing come morning. He might not feel so regretful about the moment or so painfully embarrassed. Maybe he’ll get lucky and it’ll end up a terrible dream. If nothing else, sleeping for a while will help him draw out how long he can manage without texting Erik and potentially making the situation worse. 

 

\-------

 

Until morning. That’s how long Charles can last without texting Erik and only just barely. He wakes up to a text from Gabrielle wishing him a speedy recovery from whatever had taken him away from the party so quickly and another from Raven promising that she’ll help him find some nice guy to hook up with. He ignores them both in favor of pulling up Erik’s contact info. That simply feels far more important. He drafts half a dozen messages before finally forcing himself to hit send, lest he spend all morning pulling his hair out over this. 

 

_ {sms} Hello, Erik. I’m terribly sorry about yesterday and if I made you uncomfortable. I’m sure your religious traditions is the last place you want to run into a client and I should have been more proactive in establishing boundaries. I hope you can forgive me and we’ll see each other again.  _

 

For a solid minute after sending it, Charles just sits in bed and stares at his phone screen, willing it to light up with a notification from Erik. It’s absurd, he knows, and far more suited for a teenage girl than a grown man. He wills himself away from his phone and leaves it on the bed while he goes to the bathroom to go over his morning routine and wash off all the grime from yesterday’s party. He thinks about Erik and a possible text the entire time, but at least he’s not checking his phone every ten seconds. 

 

He manages to wait just long enough to dry off and put a pair of pants on before he checks his phone again. It’s good he hadn’t checked while showering or while still dripping wet, because as soon as he actually spots Erik’s name on the notifications, he almost drops the phone in his haste to unlock it and read the message. 

 

_ {sms} Nothing to apologize for. It’s just as much my fault. I’m sorry, too. Glad everything is still okay and that you want to see each other again.  _

_ {sms} Is our usual Sunday evening on for tonight?  _

 

_ {sms} Yes! _

_ {sms} Don’t mean to sound so eager, sorry. But yes. I would love to simply go back to normal.  _

 

_ {sms} Sound as eager as you want, baby. I’ll see you at six.  _

 

Despite knowing this is probably just Erik being professional to keep his customer base, Charles knows, but he can’t help the warmth and excitement all over him. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d worried about never seeing Erik again until now that it’s been confirmed he will. It’s concerning how much this calms him from everything last night. He’s still embarrassed and hungover, sure, but now he’s embarrassed and hungover with slightly less frayed nerves. It’s a start. 

 

\-----

 

Charles doesn’t bother trying to play it cool today. When Erik knocks at his door at six on the dot, Charles is right there to open it and let him inside. He’d spent most of the afternoon half sure that Erik would cancel last minute or simply not show up they’d agreed. He’s pathetically relieved when he sees Erik on the other side of the door. 

 

“Hello, Erik. I was worried you wouldn’t come,” he admits.

 

“Of course I came,” Erik says. “A misunderstanding is… it’s embarrassing, but it’s not the end of the world.”

 

Well, Charles was certainly embarrassed when it happens and it had felt a bit like the end of the world, but Charles has at least enough sense to acknowledge that it really wasn’t. Maybe today can just be like any other day and they never have to think about their awkward encounter again. It’s not likely, but Charles can dream. Erik’s settled down on the couch while Charles locks the door behind him, but Charles actually knows how he’d like to start their evening. Thinking about Erik all night and day long had made him a bit creative, even if Charles is a bit guilty about it. 

 

“Actually, Erik, what I had in mind today will be much easier if we’re in the bedroom, I think,” Charles says.

 

“Oh.” Erik nods and stands up. “Off to the bedroom we go, then. You usually like a bit of a chat beforehand. Finally finding your wild side, are you?” 

 

“Something like that.” Charles laughs, and hopefully, it doesn’t sound as uncomfortable as it feels. Charles wheels into the bedroom behind Erik and sets the lock on his chair when he finds a convenient spot. He doesn’t really need to lock it yet, he’ll move again in a few minutes, but there’s a sort of finality to the movement that he enjoys, seeing as he can’t really stand tall and commandeering. Erik stands by the bed, looking as neutral and ready to follow suggestions as he always is. Not to mention, as handsome and gorgeous as ever, even if there’s a tinge of uncertainty bleeding into his usual confidence. Charles almost wishes he was a terrible enough person to take advantage of Erik’s drunken confusion last night and brought him home. Almost. “Take your shirt off, darling. Slowly. I want to be able to admire you.” 

 

“Oh? Hoping to get a little strip tease out of me?” Erik teases. He strips off his sweater, though, and lingers with the buttons of the shirt underneath. As he starts undoing the first few, he steps forward towards Charles and gestures towards his lap. Erik winks at him, teasing. “Want me to straddle you? You can get this shirt off yourself, if you want. I’ll even let you cop a feel.” 

 

As badly as Charles wants agree and touch every available inch of Erik, he knows a little self restraint will do them both good in the long run, so he simply shakes his head and gestures for Erik to step back again. “If I’d wanted you on my lap, I would have said so. Now, shush, back to your task, Erik.” 

 

“Yes, Charles. Should I call you by a different title?” Erik asks, leaving his shirt unbuttoned as he takes off his belt. 

 

“Let’s try out you calling me ‘sir’,” Charles says. He’d be embarrassed about it if Erik didn’t look so intrigued. Charles can just make out how his Adam’s apple bobs up and down with the nervous little gulp Erik takes. 

 

“Yes, sir,” he agrees. 

 

Erik continues undressing, slowing down any time Charles instructs him to. Charles is sure that by now, the speed is more uncomfortable than sexy, but more than get a chance to really admire Erik’s physique, he wants to start off with a reminder, for the both of them, that Charles can really be in charge, even if he has to do it all from his chair. He directs Erik to lay down at the edge of the bed and grabs a condom while Erik gets settled. As much as Charles would like to jump in headfirst and pretend all is well, he has a feeling that’s more likely to end up terribly. 

 

So as unsexy as it might be, he feels the need to warn, “Now, I’ve never done this before, so it might be a disaster. Just bear with me, okay?” 

 

“Okay. What exactly is ‘this’?” Erik asks, pushing himself up onto his elbows. 

 

“I’m going to suck you off, obviously,” Charles explains, moving his chair closer so he can settle near the edge of the bed, between Erik’s legs. “If you put your arms up over your head, can you bind them place with the metal from the headboard? And then be a good boy and don’t undo them until you’re told.” 

 

Some of Charles’ uncertainty and insecurity is eased by how Erik’s breath hitches and the way his cock twitches against his thigh. Good. Maybe he’s not so terrible at this. Erik nods. “Yes, sir. I can be a good boy.” 

 

“That’s what I thought,” he agrees, patting Erik on the thigh and then undoing the condom so he can get it in place. He gets Erik to hardness with a few rough strokes, which get a small squirm out of Erik. “Don’t wiggle around too much or I’ll have you tie your legs in place, too.” 

 

Erik nods, trembling slightly, and Charles decides there’s no time like the present. Through a combination of unearned confidence and what he remembers from watching Erik, he leans down and runs his tongue along the underside of Erik’s cock. It’s… honestly, it’s a bit gross and latex isn’t a taste Charles wants to have in his mouth all that often, but the startled moan that escapes Erik makes it more than worth it. Charles might not see himself staying up at night and fantasizing about sucking Erik’s dick, but he was definitely going to devote time to imagining Erik’s pleased moans.

 

Deep throating is a no go. Nope. Not happening. Charles gives it an honest try, but halfway down decides that no, today is not the day Charles throws up all over Erik’s dick. He has two perfectly good hands to make up for what he can’t reach. 

 

Erik lets out a little laugh at Charles’ muffled, frustrated sigh and Charles, without thinking, slaps him across the thigh to chastise him. Instead of complaining or putting a stop to the whole thing, Erik just moans and stills his hips once more. Charles’ mind is flooded with pretty pictures of Erik bent over Charles’ knee and being spanked - if they originated only in Charles’ mind, he’s not sure. Another day. Without a doubt, Charles is going to get Erik over his knee. Today, though, he has a one track mind.

 

Charles is sure his technique is nothing to write home about, but he’s stubborn and every passing moment, Erik squirms more and more underneath him, even if Charles is using more hands than mouth. Charles scolds him once or twice for moving so much, but Erik’s kept his hands in place like he was asked, so Charles never goes through with his threats to stop. When he can feel Erik’s resolve reaching its limits, he pulls back and simply keeps pumping Erik’s cock with his hand.

 

“Sir!” Erik groans, craning his neck to look up at Erik. “Sir, please, may I come?” 

 

“So lovely and well mannered, darling. Go on. Come,” Charles encourages. 

 

Erik’s hips stutter up towards Charles’ hand once more before he comes. Charles means to continue pleasing him through it, but he gets distracted looking at how beautiful Erik is like this. Charles wishes he had a camera with him to capture the tension bleeding out of Erik’s shoulders and his face scrunching up in pleasure. Erik bites down on his bottom lip to muffle himself and Charles makes a mental note to request that Erik let himself be heard next time. That alone is as satisfying as any orgasm Charles has had since the accident.

 

He simply sits to admire Erik for a moment, before realizing he should probably look after Erik. He disposes of the condom and rolls up on the side of the bed, to where he can reach Erik’s face. He brushes aside Erik’s curls from his forehead and marvels at the pleased, fuzzy sort of daze in Erik’s eyes. 

 

“How are you doing, darling? Can you undo your arms for me?” Charles asks, continuing to stroke Erik’s hair. Erik undos the binding, but Charles had to pick up his arms and move them back into a more comfortable spot. He massages his wrists gently and leans down to kiss his knuckles. “I’m going to fetch a glass of water. Stay put.”

 

He makes his way to the kitchen and fetches a water bottle instead, figuring it’ll be a bit easier to coax a few sips into Erik that way. When he goes back to the bedroom, he transfers himself onto his bed and helps Erik settle more comfortably on the bed. Even though he gets some pillows for Erik to lay against, Erik almost immediately shifts to lay his head against Charles’ chest. Charles is definitely not going to pass up that opportunity. 

 

After some time, Erik shifts his head to look up at Charles and gives him a tired smile. “Sorry. I don’t usually go down or anywhere near it when I’m at work. I’ll be fully back with you in a few minutes.”

 

“It’s okay, darling,” Charles assures him. “Take as long as you need. I’ll gladly spend a whole night holding you.”

 

“As ‘cute’ as I’m sure I look, I’m not going to give you too great an orgasm while cuddling into you,” Erik points out. 

 

“Trust me, just seeing you earlier and getting a bit of a cuddle now is more than enough for me,” he promises.

 

“If you’re sure… then yes, I’d love a few more minutes to be held and start thinking straight again,” Erik agrees.

 

Charles holds him more snugly against him and pets his hair gently. No matter how awkward or disappointing the night before was, he’s glad he still has Erik here. Even an Erik that might resent him is better than no Erik at all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll be super real with y’all... idk how many chapters this will be :’) So don’t pay too much attention to the projected total amount. I’ll let you all know when I know for sure how many chapters it’ll be!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: internalized prejudiced against sex workers, panic attack (though it's not named as such), under-negotiated D/s scene, bondage

Erik’s quest for a boyfriend is largely unsuccessful. There’s a handful of dates, all of which end in their own type of terrible. Castle is a bit too rough around the edges. Murdock talks far too much about Sunday mass. Grimm is Jewish, which is wonderful, but he’s also works a job that has him gone half the time, which isn’t really what Erik’s looking for. Erik’s just wrapped up on his fourth date in just as many weeks and he goes back home just as disappointed as he’s been on every other day. Magda might or might strangle him when he gets home.

 

Indeed, when he walks in, clearly disappointed, Magda sighs, long and tired. “What unforgivable flaw did this one have?”

 

“You don’t have to be so judgemental before I’ve even spoken!” Erik insists. “Luke was just… not what I was looking for.”

 

“You mean he wasn’t Charles?” Magda says, looking right through him as she always does. 

 

Living with his best friend is mostly great. Times like these, though, Erik wishes he had some anonymous housemate who couldn’t care less for his well being. “Of course that’s not what I mean. Because Charles is just another client of mine and I don’t understand why you’re so hung up on him.” 

 

“You’re the one who’s hung up on him! I’m just stating the obvious at this point.” She shrugs. 

 

Erik goes to take his coat off and settle on the couch again, He just barely resists the urge to go pout alone in his room. That would make Magda even more suspicious, he’s sure. It’s not that he thinks it’s the end of the world to have a little crush on a client. It’s that by now, it should have certainly faded away, and even if it hadn’t, Magda should be more focused on helping him calm it down instead of encouraging it. 

 

“You’re an awful best friend. You know that, right?” he points out. 

 

“For wanting to see you happy? You’re right. The worst type of best friend that’s ever existed,” Magda agreed sarcastically. “I really don’t understand what’s so bad about Charles. He’s good to you, he’s sweet, he’s single. Sure you met in a weird way, but… I mean, who cares? I don’t think Charles does. At the very least, you could find out if you weren’t so hung up about it! You don’t even want to start a conversation, though.” 

 

“It’s just… it’s a terrible idea, Magda. Simple as that. I don’t have the sort of job where getting emotionally involved pays off in any sort of way,” he says.

 

Magda just sighs. Clearly, she’s in no mood to just agree with him or let him off easy today. “Most of the time? Probably true, yes. But you can’t feed me horror stories about Charles. I met him!” 

 

“You’d met Sebastian too, didn’t you? And he was just as charming and great,” Erik grumbles. 

 

“Is that what this is about? Gd, Erik, why didn’t you tell me that a month ago so we could talk about it instead of spending all this time moping around?” she asks. 

 

Almost immediately, Erik regrets saying anything at all. He tries to stand up, wondering if he can make a break for his bedroom and sulk in peace, but Magda is far too quick and grabs him by the back of the shirt to tug him back down onto the couch. He sighs. “Once was enough to learn my lesson, okay? Work is work and my personal life is an entirely different thing.” 

 

“You got unlucky with the Sebastian situation. He was an ass. Charles isn’t an ass. See? Two completely different situations,” Magda says. 

 

“Sebastian wasn’t much of an ass at first either, was he?” Erik rolls his eyes. “He was perfectly charming until he decided to show just how much of a creepy, possessive bastard he really was. And that was practically one day to the next and we had to deal with him for weeks” 

 

Magda shakes her head. “Charles isn’t Sebastian, though! He’s an absolute sweetheart. Not even the suave and charming sort that Sebastian was at first. He’s just awkward and nice.” 

 

“You just like finding the best in anyone and everyone.” 

 

“Just like you love finding the worst!” 

 

Erik huffs and rolls his eyes and goes off to his bedroom so he can have his tantrum in peace. It’s not that he thinks Magda’s being foolish. To be entirely honest… Some part of him knows she’s right. Charles isn’t Sebastian and he isn’t as naive now as he’d been when he let Sebastian lead him along. The circumstances are worlds apart, but Erik simply feels safer having a hard and fast rule to let himself feel nothing for his clients. 

 

He wishes he could call his mother and rant at her until she interrupts him with some of her life changing motherly advice and clears up the whole situation for him. But that would entail revealing a bit too much about his professional life and while he’s sure she wouldn’t be upset with him, it’s not the sort of way he wants her to think of him. Better to just suck it up for a bit, until the knotted up feeling in his stomach goes away on its own. Or something bigger comes up to distract him. He’ll take either at this point. 

 

Erik tosses about on his bed for a while, staring up at the ceiling and keeping a small metal sphere whizzing about over his head. It gives him something to do and keeps him from going completely haywire when he hears the front door open and feels Magda’s necklace get progressively farther from their apartment. His phone vibrates with a notification almost as soon as she’s left, but it’s a while before he can muster up enough energy to check it. 

 

Forty two minutes, give or take, according to the timestamp on the text. 

 

_ [sms] Got called into a last minute emergency at work. Sorry to leave in the middle of an argument, babe. I’m not mad at you, I just want you to have what you deserve. Take care and I’ll see you when I come home tonight <3  _

 

Erik tosses the phone off the side of the bed as soon as he’s read it, lest he read the text ten times over to find some sort of hidden message between the lines. Having the phone away from him doesn’t keep him from running it over in his head over and over, though. It’s a foolish thing to do. Magda had explicitly said she’s not upset with him, but it doesn’t make it any easier to convince himself it’s actually true. It’s much easier to go over every word they said to each other in the last three weeks and find every hint that she might resent him and have spent all this time secretly planning to move out and leave him alone in the city. 

 

It’s… not an ideal way to spend a lonely Thursday evening. Erik working himself up into one of his moods isn’t entirely uncommon. It’s been a semi regular occurrence since he was a teenager, once that Magda had helped him through more than once. It happens less these days, now that he’s fully grown and not a hormonal, insecure teenage mess, but his thoughts do still end up in an unpleasant, vicious cycle of attacking himself every once in a while. Normally, he’d go to Magda for her help in grounding him and calming him down. But Magda’s not home right now and besides, Erik’s half sure she secretly despises him. 

 

He considers texting her, just for a quick affirmation that she isn’t really mad and to know when she’ll be home, but he decides against it. Being too needy would certainly work against him and if she’d had to leave over an emergency, the last thing she needs is to think that he’s at home waiting for her arrival. Even if he is. 

 

So. 

 

Erik lays there, staring at the ceiling and putting far too much thought into his breathing and wondering how he’d managed to get himself into a situation like this in the first place. That’s probably not the best course of action, because it leaves him thinking about Charles and thinking about Charles makes his head hurt and his stomach tighten up in unpleasant ways. But it’s impossible  _ not  _ to think about Charles, especially when he and Magda have been bickering about him so much over the last few weeks and Charles is the only person other than Magda who can actually calm him down the way he needs to. 

 

He’s already halfway to the street before he realizes he’s going anywhere at all. Not an excellent sign, but at least Erik knows exactly where his feet are leading him once he comes back to his senses. Charles’ apartment. Of course. It’s a stupid, stupid idea, but the only other option Erik sees is lay in his bed hating himself and hyperventilating halfway to death, so he lets his feet take him to Charles’ apartment on autopilot, despite every rational cell in his body warning him it’s a terrible idea. 

 

The only reason he doesn’t come to his senses and turn around at Charles’ door is that Charles is already waiting by the open door when he gets off the elevator on his floor. And once Erik’s actually seen him and the dumb floppy hair and those stupid blue eyes that care too much and the steady hum of the chair against his senses… there’s no way Erik’s going to make it home with any dignity after this. 

 

Charles frowns at him gently and ushers him inside. “Erik? What are you doing here? I wasn’t expecting you, but… is everything okay? Your mind is so distressed, it practically called out to me the second you entered the building.”

 

“I’m fine,” Erik says, out of instinct more than anything. Once he’s shuffled inside the apartment and shut the door behind him, he crumples down onto the couch and shakes his head. “No. Not really. I’m not that fine.” 

 

“Love… What’s wrong? Come here,” Charles murmurs, wheeling up next to the couch and helping Erik move onto his lap. 

 

Erik doesn’t bother trying to be stubborn or argue about it. He just curls up on Charles’ lap and tucks his head under his chin without much complaint. He’s too tired to put up a fight. “It’s sort of stupid.”

 

“If it’s bothering you, then it’s not stupid at all,” Charles promises, reaching up to stroke his hair. “Why don’t we sit together and chat about it?” 

 

“It’s just…” Erik sighs. There’s not much he can say without exposing his rather embarrassing crush, but he tries anyway. “Magda and I had… a disagreement. She had to leave for work right after, so we didn’t get to clear it up. I just get caught up in my head sometimes and it’s so hard to think straight or calm down or breathe or do anything or…” 

 

Erik trails off, realizing that he’s just spiraling off and making it worse. Charles is probably going to kick him out and delete his contact info and report him for being unprofessional and think he’s a creep and out him to their mutual friends and a million other terrible things. Erik would probably go through all one million terrible things, if Charles doesn’t immediately set on proving him wrong and doing the exact opposite Erik expects. He just hugs Erik a bit closer and presses kisses to his hair and forehead. 

 

“Shh, shh. Just breathe for a moment, love. Here, match your breathing up to mine. There you go… I want to help you. Can you tell me how you usually feel better during a time like this?” Charles asks, keeping a steady hand on Erik’s back. 

 

“Magda usually helps me,” he admits, letting out a sad laugh at the irony of that. “She helps me down - into subspace, like the last couple of times we were together - and it helps my head stop being so… loud. Enough to get myself back together again.” 

 

“Is that why you came here, Erik?” Charles asks. Somehow, there’s not a hint of judgement in that. “So I could help you go down?” 

 

Erik wants to deny it, because there’s something uncomfortable and manipulative about showing up at a client’s house a total wreck and expecting to get dommed in return. But even if he hates to admit it to even himself, he knows that’s the reason. Why else would he have come here when he could have just as easily gone to another one of their friends or waited for Magda to return? Shamefully, he nods. “Yes…” 

 

“Okay. I can do that for you. Of course I can, darling,” Charles promises, giving him a comforting squeeze. 

 

“I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t have come here,” Erik mumbles. He makes no move to leave, though. 

 

“Nonsense. I’m always happy to see you,” he says. “Can you get off my lap for a moment? There you go, well done, my sweet boy. Now, I’m going into my bedroom. I’d like you to take a moment to strip down to your underwear, leave your clothing folded on the couch, and come meet me in the room with two glasses of water. Can you do that for me, baby?” 

 

Erik nods and clambers off Charles’ lap, no matter how cozy his spot on there had been. Hopefully, he can earn a chance to get back on later. For now, it helps to simply ground himself in the tasks, no matter how simple they are. The minute he spends focused on folding his clothing as neatly as possible is a minute he doesn’t spend worrying about Magda. There’s still a heavy weight bearing down on him, but he can start to see a light at the end of the tunnel, so to speak.

 

When he goes into the bedroom, Charles’ chair is settled next to the bed. He gestures Erik closer to him and motions for him to kneel as soon as the glasses are settled on the nightstand, which is a good thing, because Erik’s legs had been moments away from buckling down in front of him regardless. He wants to touch and get closer, but he’s not sure he has permission to. His concern is either very loudly broadcasted or Charles has simply gotten to know all his quirks, because a moment later, Charles is reaching out to pet Erik’s hair gently and guide his head so it’s resting up against his thigh. 

 

“You’re a good boy, Erik. Such a lovely sight for me down there on your knees,” Charles praises, continuing to stroke his hair. 

 

Erik rests his cheek on Charles’ knee and looks up to him. He doesn’t believe that right now, but it’s nice to hear regardless. “Sir… Is it okay if I call you sir?” 

 

“Of course. It’s a privilege to be addressed as such by you,” he assures him, leaning down to kiss his forehead. 

 

“It’s not.” Erik shakes his head. “You deserve much better than me, sir. Magda, too.” 

 

There’s shades of Sebastian in that statement, that never ending quest for perfection at all costs, but it’s not as though Erik’s tendency to feel inadequate had originated there. Sebastian had just known perfectly well how to exploit it in all the right ways, so that three years later, Erik still looks back to him as confirmation for the things Erik has known all along. 

 

Charles slaps him, not hard enough to actually hurt, just enough to catch his attention and startle him back into place. “Don’t talk like that. Consider that an order, if you’d like. I don’t like to hear you put yourself down and I’m sure Magda would agree.” 

 

“She would,” Erik admits, frowning down at his lap. 

 

“Exactly. So we’re not going to do it. Especially since it’s so wildly untrue,” Charles says. He tugs Erik up by his shoulders, so he’s standing in front of him, and places his hands at either side of Erik’s thighs. “You deserve the whole world, I’d say. Can you fetch one of the glasses of water and have a drink for me, darling?” 

 

Erik grumbles a bit under his breath about how useless a task that is, but he does it and lets Charles settle him on his lap again when he’s gotten it. He takes a few tiny sips, and mostly because Charles is staring him down the whole time. “This is silly.” 

 

“Perhaps. But I’m afraid I can’t quite trust that you’ve taken good enough care of yourself while you feel like this and making sure you have enough water seems like a good place to start,” Charles explains, stroking Erik’s back gently as he does. Erik doesn’t see much point in it, but he can’t deny that Charles’ fingers along his spine are lovely. It’s a much nicer sensation to focus on than anything going on inside his head. 

 

“Okay…” Erik sighs and ends up with his head resting against Charles’ shoulder again. “Wouldn’t it be more fun to spank me, sir? Or have me ride you? Or anything else, really?” 

 

“Hmm. While I’m sure you’d love to use me as a means to punish yourself for some nonexistent infraction, you’re in absolutely no state to decide you want that, darling. So I’m afraid the answer is no,” he decides, pressing a kiss to the top of Erik’s head to soothe the sting of rejection. “However… I know you need some help shutting out all those thoughts, so how about I fetch some of that rope you left here last time and we get some pretty knots done up on my pretty boy?” 

 

Erik agrees, because he has a feeling he won’t be able to talk Charles into much more than that. 

He’d introduced Charles to more complex knots and shibari type bondage recently, but he’d taken to it quite quickly, even the more complicated of knots. Something about a military childhood, he’d said in explanation. Eik doesn’t care much why, since he’s the one who gets to reap the benefits.  

 

He stays on Charles’ lap as he goes to fetch the rope, which Charles is more than happy to let him do, even if it makes it a bit more difficult for him to maneuver. Erik knows he should feel a bit bad and get off to simplify Charles’ life a bit, but it seems too daunting a task to move and be alone right now. It’s crossing the exact same lines that Erik had been so stubborn about before, but it’s difficult to care from his cozy spot on Charles’ lap. 

 

It’s even more difficult to care while on his knees in the middle of Charles’ bedroom floor. Charles circles him a few times, with so much confidence that Erik hardly remembers the painfully shy and repressed Charles he’d first met. Once Charles is content with whatever he’d been looking for, he gets to work, binding Erik’s arms behind his back and fashioning a harness that is simple enough in the grand scheme of things, but is the exact type of snug Erik craves and makes it easy to lose himself. The whole while, Charles keeps mumbling to him, unimportant things about how pretty he looks and how happy Charles is to have him here and a dozen other things that Erik isn’t paying attention to. 

 

He’s just enjoying the comforting drone of Charles’ voice and the safety and stability that comes over him when he thinks of being here, well taken care of in Charles’ hands and without the need or worry of a million responsibilities. Erik lets it lull him off into a floating, hazy state of mind until he’s far too caught up in Charles’ voice and touch to worry much about anything he’s left behind at home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to have missed out on last week's update, everyone! Life was a little haywire for a bit. In the time since my last update I have: been on four flights (with a fifth one coming up on Sunday lol), got a tattoo, spent a night in Philadelphia, got another tattoo, and said goodbye to my Mom and brother for the semester. X_X
> 
> We're back on track now, though. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!! I squealed about a million times writing it. That's right everybody....
> 
> Sound the alarms because the end of the slow burn is in sight


	12. Chapter 12

Logically, Charles knows Erik probably shouldn’t be there. He’s in no state to really be making decisions, particularly not when those decisions involve showing up in a client’s house for some reason. (Because Charles doesn’t really let himself believe that he and Erik might actually be friends. That seems like nothing more than a recipe for future disappointment.) Still, it’s what he’d done and what was Charles supposed to do? Turn him away? He’d never be able to turn away even a stranger in need of help, let alone Erik.

 

It’s what comes after giving the help that he’s unsure of. Erik might not be in quite so much turmoil, but he’s clearly not well. He can’t stay here either. Charles would happily let Erik stay however long he wants, but he has enough sense to know that it would be a horrific breach of trust to let Erik decide to stay over under these circumstances. For whatever reason, Erik’s decided that Charles is someone he trusts enough to come to in a time of need. Charles doesn’t want to do anything at all to prove unworthy of that trust. 

 

Magda seems like the logical choice, even if her and Erik had a disagreement. They live together, after all, and Charles can tell from their one time meeting and the way Erik talks about her that they love each other a great deal. The only problem is Charles doesn’t have a clue where Erik lives or what Magda’s phone number is. He could go searching through his mind for it, of course, but not only does he feel morally against it, but he suspects it would be rather unpleasant for Erik in his current state of mind. Charles just hopes Erik might be able to help soon so Charles can get him home.

 

Right now, Erik doesn’t seem concerned with much more beyond curling up on Charles’ lap and pressing up against his neck. Charles doesn’t mind it, even if Erik’s breath is warm and muggy against his skin and his arms are a bit tired from hugging him so long. He’d happily do it forever. But Charles can’t imagine it’s very comfortable for Erik’s neck and back to be bent like this, so despite Erik’s soft whines of complaint, Charles maneuvers him onto the bed and transfers onto it beside him. Erik doesn’t like the few seconds they’re apart one bit and makes it perfectly well known with grumbles and whines which make Charles’ heart ache with fondness. He calms down again as soon as Charles has laid down and pulled him up against his chest. 

 

“I’m not going to leave you, darling. You don’t have to worry about that,” Charles promises, stroking Erik’s hair gently. 

 

Erik just lets out a soft grunt in confirmation that he’s heard, but it’s enough. 

 

Charles holds him and strokes his hair for a while, talking about any useless thing that crosses his mind. Erik seems to just like the constant distraction of Charles’ voice and if there’s one thing Charles has always been excellent at, it’s talking endlessly about things don’t matter much at all. Charles wishes he could offer more, but he doesn't know where to begin when it comes to taking care of Erik. 

 

Despite the many times Erik had instilled the importance of aftercare into him, he rarely lets Charles do much more than a quick cuddle until their time is up and he goes home. Anytime Charles asks about it, Erik will simply tell him that he’s fine going home and handling it between himself and Magda, but that Charles is very sweet to offer and will make a very wonderful boyfriend someday. Charles never pushed, since Erik had seemed so eager to establish those boundaries between client and lover, but now he wishes he’d been a bit more insistent. 

 

At the very least, Charles knows his cuddles are appreciated, and he’s made sure that Erik got some water. It’s probably the best he can do given the circumstances, though he’s definitely going to be more persistent in getting Erik to stay a while longer from now on. 

 

Once Erik doesn't seem quite so sensitive, Charles leans down to kiss his head and angles his face up towards him. “Do you have your cellphone on you? So we can give Magda a call?” 

 

“I…” Erik frowns and reaches down to feel around his pockets. He shakes his head. “No. I must have left it at home.” 

 

“Okay… Well, do you know her number? And I can give her a call on my phone?” Charles suggests. 

 

“I can’t remember her number. My brain doesn’t work right now,” he mumbles, whining pitifully and hiding his face against Charles’ neck again. 

 

“That’s okay, baby. That’s okay,” he promises, rubbing his back soothingly. He has a feeling it takes Erik a great deal to achieve this level of vulnerability with anyone and the last thing he wants is Erik retreating back into his shell. “How about I drop you off at home? You can talk to Magda in person and if she’s not back home yet, I’ll wait with you until she is. So you don’t have to be alone.” 

 

Erik glances up at him dubiously but nods. Charles will take whatever he can get, no matter how halfhearted. Having Erik be at home, even a bit grumpy, is better than leaving him here. Erik still seems a bit out of it, but Charles helps him into his shoes and coaxes him down to the street, even if it involves letting Erik ride on his lap all the way down the elevator. It takes a bit more prodding to get Erik to give the taxi driver his address, but soon enough, they’re on their way back to Erik’s home and Charles is undeniably a bit calmer. 

 

It’s late, later than Charles had thought until he’d checked his phone, and he’s glad he’s enough of a fusser to insist on accompanying Erik home. Erik’s tough. Charles is sure he would have gotten home just fine, but Charles might have given himself a stroke from worrying so much about him. Charles wouldn’t leave Erik alone in his own living room right now if it can be helped, let alone on a late night subway ride. 

 

It was the right call, it seems, because when they finally get back to Erik’s apartment, Magda is pacing in the living room. The door’s barely open before she swoops in to pull Erik into a hug and squeeze him tight. She’s probably at least a foot shorter than Erik, but somehow, Erik still seems like the small one in need of looking after between them. 

 

“Max! What were you thinking, running off without your cellphone like that? You scared me,” she insists, pulling back at arm’s length to look up at him. Charles notes how her eyes are red and swollen, like she’s been crying, but is polite enough to not comment on it. 

 

“Sorry,” Erik mumbles, hugging her again and resting his chin on top of her head. “I went to Charles’ place.” 

 

“Hello.” Charles waves at her, lingering awkwardly at the door. He’s not sure if he’s welcome inside, but he cares about Erik a bit too much to simply drop him off and take off immediately. “We met once, a few weeks back. I’m Charles.” 

 

“Oh, don’t worry. I know perfectly well who you are,” Magda says. Which… Charles isn’t sure what to make of that. “Come in. Thank you for bringing Erik by. He’s got a talent for disappearing at the worst moments and scaring me within an inch of my life.” 

 

Charles nods sympathetically as he goes in. “I looked after him. I don’t think I did too terribly, though I’ll defer to Erik on that matter.” 

 

“No. You did well. You always do,” Erik insists. Though Charles wouldn’t put too much weight into anything he says right now while his mind is still as hazy as it is. 

 

“Thank you, darling.” Charles smiles kindly at him before turning to Magda. “He’s had some water and a bit of time to cuddle, but I’m sure you can handle it from here and do far better than I could.” 

 

He gets ready to head out before he can get asked to leave, but Magda ushers Erik back onto his lap before he can get another word in. “You’ve done great. I’m going to get him something warm to drink. Will you look after him for a few more minutes?” 

 

“Oh. Yes, of course,” Charles agrees, helping Erik get a bit more comfortable. It’s not what he’d expected, but he’ll never say no to the chance to hold Erik a while longer. 

 

While Magda’s in the kitchen, Erik settles into his usual spot of tucking his head away under Charles’ chin. “She’s a bit of a mother hen sometimes. I’m sorry. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.” 

 

“Don’t be silly. Of course I’ll stay. I’ll stay as long as you need me to,” he promises. Or until Magda kicks him out, but he doesn’t want to consider that option for very long, even if he does know that it’s a very likely outcome. 

 

“You’re sweet, Charles,” Erik murmurs, pressing a kiss to his clothed shoulder. “You’ll make someone very happy someday…” 

 

Charles is saved from having to answer to that by Magda coming back into the room with a mug of cocoa for Erik. They convince him to move to the couch, which he does only after Charles promises that he’ll move to the couch as well. He does, of course, because he can’t resist being close to Erik and Magda doesn’t seem to mind. Erik curled up on the couch with a mug of hot chocolate is quite possibly the most adorable thing Charles has ever seen and it almost pains him to think that he only has this temporarily. Having Erik nearby like this on a regular basis is everything Charles could ever want, but that seemed rather far fetched for the two of them. He’s grateful to at least have this time between them. Once he’s transferred to the couch, Erik shifts about to lean on Charles’ shoulder. 

 

“Thank you for bringing him back,” Magda says, sitting on an armchair across from them. “Max has told me a lot about you.” 

 

“Oh. He mentions you a lot, too,” Charles tells her. Once again, he’s not sure what to make of that. Does Erik complain about him often? Or is it something else? Somehow, Charles can’t really imagine Erik sitting with Magda and singing such high praises of him. 

 

Maybe it is something like that, though, judging from how Erik blushes and glares halfheartedly at Magda. “That’s enough out of you.” 

 

“You brought him to our home, for God’s sake!” Magda rolls her eyes. “I don’t think there’s anything I could say that would beat that.” 

 

“Charles was just being a nice person by helping me back,” Erik insists. 

 

For his part, Charles just feels like he’s walked into something much more elaborate than he was aware of and doesn’t have a clue how to react. He pets Erik’s hair to avoid shifting uncomfortably and looks over at Magda apologetically. “If you’d rather I not linger, Magda, I can head out. I know Erik is in good hands with you.” 

 

“Trust me. I’m not kicking you out,” she says, shaking her head. “Sorry, this is a continuation of an earlier conversation that we probably shouldn’t be having in front of you either way.”

 

Charles frowns. “Oh.” 

 

“Magda…” Erik groans. “You’re making it sound like I come home complaining about him every night.” 

 

“Don’t worry about censoring yourself on my behalf. I know I’m the one intruding on your lives at the moment,” he insists, even if it does sting to think that Erik might truly have been acting all along, despite his many assurances that it wasn’t true. 

 

“It’s nothing like that,” Magda promises. “It’s not my place to elaborate, I suppose. Forget I said anything.” 

 

“I’ll… forget about it,” Charles says. He’d ignore just about anything to get a few more minutes here with Erik, even if it causes a dull sort of ache in his chest.

 

Magda and Erik exchange a few looks that Charles tries very hard not to think too much into, until finally, Erik loses their nonverbal argument and looks at Charles. “Maybe you could stay a while longer? We can… talk.” 

 

“Of course. I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me,” Charles agrees. He didn’t know they even had anything to talk about, but he’s happy to stay. He’d do just about anything for Erik, no matter how pathetic that might be.

 

Erik nods and leaves it at that. There’s a few minutes of silence, which Charles tries not to overthink. Erik’s drinking his cocoa and Magda’s pretending to fiddle on her phone while keeping an eye on Erik. It leaves Charles to just sit there, wondering if Erik’s going to send him away now, ask him to find someone else to work with him, or admit that he’s secretly hated Charles since day one. Still, Charles promised to stay and he will. Even if he suspects he might end up getting his heart crushed into a million little pieces. 

 

Once Erik’s finished, Charles transfers himself back into his chair and follows him to his bedroom. There’s a strange sort of intimacy to being in Erik’s room. It’s odd how many things feel inappropriately intimate tonight, considering how many times they’ve slept together. Maybe Charles is looking too far into it, though. Maybe Erik’s brought plenty of clients to his bedroom and this doesn’t mean much at all. (Charles knows that’s not true, but it calms his nerves slightly to pretend.)

 

Erik sits down at the edge of his bed, close enough that their knees are nearly touching. “I’m sorry for showing up at your house like that. I shouldn’t have forced you into my mess. I won’t charge you for our next appointment, if you want. Or if you’d rather not see me like that again, I understand. I’ll give you some recommendations and refund you our last time. For the hassle.” 

 

“Erik…” Charles’ sputters about uselessly for a moment before shaking his head firmly. “Do you really think I saw tonight as a hassle? Or that you have to make it up for me? Of course not. I’m more than happy to help you in any way I can.”

 

“This isn’t what you signed up for, Charles. You wanted to have a good time, not babysit a grown man,” he insists. 

 

“Maybe at first, but… come on now, Erik. You must know that I’ve come to care for you a great deal,” Charles admits. Maybe it hadn’t been as obvious as he thought. Not that it matters now. Charles would rather be truthful and have Erik toss him out than let Erik believe he’s been a burden. 

 

Erik just stares at him quietly for a few moments. Charles is sure he’s just trying to decide how to kick him out, but when he speaks up again, he looks more embarrassed than anything else. “Magda and I… When we were arguing earlier, it was about you.” 

 

“You were arguing… about me?” Charles repeats, frowning. 

 

“Yeah. I’ve been kind of hung up on you, too.” Erik says it so softly that Charles isn’t entirely sure he’s not imagining it all. But before he can think too hard about it, Erik continues. “I might have… unprofessional feelings towards you. Magda’s been trying to get me to actually talk to you about it for a while, but we both know talking things over isn’t exactly one of my strengths.”

 

“Oh.” 

 

Charles isn’t sure what to make of this. Obviously, his mind immediately jumps to all the possibilities. Maybe he and Erik will end up together. Maybe they can go on a few dates and fall in love like normal couples, not like someone who’s been hired. His mind wanders to all sorts of fantasies, like having Erik stay the night and getting to care for him the way he deserves. But he stops himself before it can get too far. He doesn’t want to assume things or have too apparent a reaction that might change what direction Erik’s really going with this. 

 

“We can just… leave it at that, if you want. Nothing has to change,” Erik offers. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

 

“You’re not making me uncomfortable. I’m just trying to think things through and not make myself look like an ass.” And not doing a very good job at it, apparently, but Charles hopes there’s still time to fix it. He gestures to a spot on the bed next to Erik. “May I?” 

 

Erik’s quick to nod, moving over slightly to give Charles more space to transfer himself. “Of course. I’m just happy you haven’t decided to just run off and delete my number.” 

 

“As if I could ever let go of you so easily,” Charles murmurs. Part of him still wants to keep a bit of distance between them, lest Erik feel pushed in any one direction, but as soon as he’s sitting, Erik reaches to take Charles’ hand. Charles is many things, but when it comes to this, a strong man is not one of them, and he takes Erik’s hand in his, giving it a squeeze. “So you and Magda argued about me?”

 

“In short, yes. If we’d met any other way, I’d have been all over you. You’re almost everything I could ever want in a man. But we didn’t. We met through work, so… I didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position and I’ve just been ignoring it for a while. Then I thought maybe I just resented being single and would be happy with anyone new in my life. But I’ve met five totally different guys in the last month and they all have the same problem. They’re not you. I shouldn’t have gone over to your place tonight and we should almost definitely be having this talk under  _ any  _ other circumstances, but… Here we are.” Erik sighs. 

 

Charles nods. The circumstances aren’t the best, but they never seem to be between the two of them. Actually, nothing in Charles’ life has happened under the best circumstances ever since the day his father died, yet here he is, doing not so terribly despite the many stumbling blocks along the way. Maybe he should have never waited for perfect circumstances and this is the sign he shouldn’t have been waiting for. “Well, I’m here now. Though you’re right. Tonight’s probably not the best time to talk about it. You’re exhausted. How about… we both get some sleep and we’ll talk in the morning?” 

 

“Will you stay?” Erik asks, holding onto Charles’ hand a little tighter. 

 

“Of course, baby. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” he promises.

 

The better circumstances would be to go home and come back or be a gentleman and offer to sleep on the couch. But Charles is tired of waiting for perfect circumstances. He’d much rather settle down here on Erik’s bed and get to enjoy spending the night for once. There really is nowhere else he’d rather be.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh hello.... thanks for sticking round with me, more explanations will be down below <3 
> 
> Not super in love with this chapter and it's not like..... my best characterization but it's over and we can move forward from it and that's what matters! 
> 
> CW: food mention, internalized anti sex worker sentiments

When he first wakes up, Erik isn’t entirely sure he didn’t dream up the whole evening. Even when he opens his eyes and sees Charles laying next to him, it takes a moment before his brain catches up to his eyes and he’s sure he’s not imagining the whole thing. He should very likely be a little more embarrassed about yesterday’s whole affair, but at this point, Erik can’t see how things might get any worse, so he might as well embrace the absolute disaster this has been so far.

Charles is either an incredibly light sleeper or he’s already woken by now, because as soon as Erik shifts about onto his back, Charles turns to face him as well. “Good morning,” he mumbles, reaching out to rest a hand on Erik’s chest.

“Hello.” Erik sighs and tilts his head towards Charles. “I half expected to wake up to an empty bed.”

“As if I could ever leave you. Besides, Magda might have had my head if I’d tried to leave you in the middle of the night,” Charles says.

It’s meant to be a joke, probably, but Erik just finds himself feeling guilty for trapping Charles in a situation like this. “Well. I’m awake now to protect your honor, if you’d like an escort out of here.”

“I think I’d much rather stay here with you. If that’s okay,” Charles says, taking Erik’s hand. “Or, at least, until you’re feeling truly better. But if you want me to leave, I’ll leave you in what I’m sure are Magda’s more than capable hands.”

“No. I don’t want you to leave,” Erik admits, shaking his head.

“I’ll stay then,” he promises.

Erik can’t be sure that it’s the right choice, but it’s the only one he wants to entertain right now, so he’s simply grateful for what he has instead of what he should have. The time for propriety is long gone by now. Erik lays a while, using the silence to simply enjoy being next to Charles and knowing that this is genuine and not some transaction.

It doesn’t quite feel real yet and part of Erik is simply waiting for it all to implode in his face.

Before he can think of a million reasons to run away, Erik takes a deep breath to gather up every ounce of courage in him and sits up. “Would you like anything? If we have to have a horribly awkward talk anyway, we might as well have caffeine in our systems while we do so.”

“I’d love to,” Charles agrees.

The smile Charles shares with him is so soft, Erik lets himself believe that maybe he’s not the only one who’s lost himself to fantasies of staying the night and sharing breakfast with Charles. It’s something domestic and lovely and wholly for couples, not the shameful secret Erik’s used to being. Getting up next to Charles and maneuvering around him as he gets ready for the day feels like the most natural thing in the world.

Erik doesn’t put much effort into looking put together. Charles has clearly seen him in much worse than this. A worn out football jersey and uncombed hair probably won’t be the breaking point between them. Charles borrows one of Erik’s shirts, one that fits him too tight around the arms and sets off a strange pang in Erik’s heart.

Magda is sat at the table when they come out of the room, having her morning coffee with a bagel. She glances over at Charles before looking at Erik. “Should I give the two of you some privacy?”

“It might be for the best,” Erik agrees. He goes to give her a hug before she leaves and murmurs a quick reassurance to her that he’s fine and will remain so. Once she’s gone off to her room, Erik turns to face Charles, feeling far more self conscious than he ever does with his clothes off. “Do you want anything? Tea or coffee or breakfast?”

“Just some tea would be fine. I’d offer to get it while you sit, but I’m afraid your counters are a bit too high for me,” Charles says apologetically.

Erik waves away his tone, because really, he’s the inconsiderate one here, and it’s the least he can do for keeping Charles away from his own home where the setup is actually functional for him. Charles doesn’t seem to hold it against him, but Charles also seems to have a superhuman sort of patience. It doesn’t hurt that doing this for the two of them gives him something to do with his hands and occupy his thoughts before they eat him alive. There’s only so long someone can procrastinate on making tea, though, and almost too soon, he’s sitting down across from Charles again.

He pushes the mug across the table before really settling in his seat. Every move feels like a step farther from ever salvaging something somewhat normal between them, but the point of no return had been crossed long ago.

“I don’t have very appropriate feelings for you,” Erik says simply, sure that if he tries to think of a better way to say it, he’ll be stuck on words forever.

“Inappropriate…” Charles repeats. “As in… well, not to sound like a schoolboy, but as in you liked me?”

“I believe proper schoolboy language is like like you,” Erik corrects, laughing through his resignation. “But beyond that. Yes. That would be a good way to put it.”

“And that’s why you’d been pulling away? Acting strange the last few weeks?” he asks. Well. Not much of a question, really, more of a statement, but Charles is too polite to be overt about it.

Erik nods. “I keep a professional distance. My feelings… weren’t letting me do that.”

“You didn’t have to do that. I mean, I understand why you did, but we could have talked about it, don’t you think?” Charles reaches forwards to place his hand on top of Erik’s, then hesitates for a second. “Is this okay?”

“It’s okay,” he says, because even though it does nothing to help himself, he’s too weak to protest too much against it. “You’re a good man, Charles. Don’t take this as a reflection of your own worth or anything of that sort.”

“I won’t. But I’m also not sure where to even start on what to take this as. I’m afraid I’ve grown rather fond of you, too. I know I’ve fallen for an act, most likely, but I have,” Charles insists. “I can be good for you. If you’ll give me a chance.”

“I know you mean that, but give it a while and the novelty will wear off. Even if I didn’t have my own rules against getting involved with clients, you deserve much better than what being with me would be like,” Erik says.

Charles lets out a small laugh as he squeezes Erik’s fingers gently. “I thought you of all people would be in favor of a little bending the rules.”

“Eh.” Erik shrugs. “Not all rules are terrible. I tried having something with a client once. Until he got bored of it all and devoted most of his energy into making my life a living hell for his own entertainment. It was a good reminder that things are kept impersonal for a reason.”

“I’m not like that. You know I’m not. I could…” Charles trails off and merely gestures towards his temple, wordlessly asking for permission.

Despite knowing he really shouldn’t, Erik nods and doesn’t fight when he feels Charles’ mind prodding at his own. It’s not a feeling he’s used to yet and it makes him want to tense up and fight it, but he pushes through it and tries not too make it too difficult for Charles to stay in his mind. It’s not as though it’s entirely one sided. He’s not as well versed in navigating minds as Charles is, but he can still feel the way it’s opened up to him. Erik closes his eyes to concentrate on the odd sensation of floating around another’s consciousness.

Charles gives Erik a helpful nudge in the right direction and Erik is cast head first into a corner of Charles’ mind that seems to be entirely devoted to Erik. It would be embarrassing if it wasn’t the slightest bit endearing. There’s the usual that Erik’s grown used to having people feel around him, lust and power and intrigue. There’s a gentler side to it, though. A genuine desire to spend time with him outside of sex, to get to know him, to enjoy their cuddles and aftercare just as thoroughly as their more carnal time together. It’s odd to see another’s thoughts about him and even odder to not find the slightly sadistic or fetishistic undervibe he’d expected.

As soon as Erik starts to shift back and away from Charles’ mind, Charles pulls the rest of the way out and leaves Erik to the quiet privacy of his own mind. It’s not entirely surprising. It’s entirely the behavior of the sweet man Erik’s come to know in Charles. It would be lovely if it doesn’t make it so tempting to make bad decisions for himself.

“So… I don’t know if that makes things any easier on your end of things, but… I do truly care about you,” Charles says, looking at Erik and clearly waiting for some sort of definite answer, be it acceptance or rejection.

But Erik just sighs. “I have rules for myself for a reason.”

“And rules are meant to be broken,” Charles offers helpfully.

“I need some time to think about it. Really think about it, I mean, and in a better state of mind than I currently am,” Erik says eventually.

It’s probably the last thing Charles wants to hear, but in true Charles-fashion, he simply nods and lets go of Erik’s hand so he can wheel himself away from the table ever so slightly. This would all be much easier to do if Charles would simply act like everyone before him and show a little less respect for Erik and his requests.

“Of course. That makes perfect sense,” he agrees. “I can make my way home, if that’s what you’d prefer?”

“Please.” Erik nods.

Charles doesn’t try to argue it or prolong his stay beyond requesting Erik’s help in clearing some things out of the floor so the path out is easier to navigate from his chair. Erik wants to apologize about a dozen times, for dragging him out here just to kick him out and for keeping him in a constant limbo, but Charles shushes him every time he starts. A few minutes later, Erik is standing in an empty living room again and a part of him has to wonder if he might have imagined the whole thing.

But no. Of course not. There’s a third mug in the sink and the bed still smells of Charles’ cologne. Erik can’t pretend to have imagined it even if he wants to. Which is another question he’s entirely unprepared to face right now. He knocks on Magda’s door once to let her know they’re alone again and then goes to sit at the kitchen table again, because it’s the most convenient place in their apartment to fashion a metal spoon into a hundred little shapes until his stress fades away.

“I take it from the lack of Charles in the apartment that you two haven’t come to a mutually beneficial agreement and decided to elope?” Magda asks, pulling up a chair to sit next to Erik.

“Wouldn’t that have been quite the shocker?” Erik snorts softly. Dejectedly, he leans over to rest his head on Magda’s shoulder. “No, no. I asked him for some time to think things over.”

“Not a straight out rejection? Look at you. You’re getting there,” she encourages, patting his knee.

“I suppose it’s no secret what you would tell me to do. You’re worse than a Jewish mother when it comes to trying to find me nice boys to be with. Do I need to remind you that Charles is a goy?” Erik teases, glancing up at her. He’s glad they live together in moments like this. She brings a certain levity to everything that stops him from eternally wallowing in his own melodramatic misery.

Magda rolls her eyes. “What do I look like? Your mother? Besides, I’m mostly interested in you letting yourself be happy, not so much in getting you together with any particular man.”

“Oh? And letting myself be happy has to involve being with someone, does it?” Erik prods.

“Of course not,” she scoffs. “It just happens to be one of the things you’re best at beating yourself up about. You’ve got this gift for trying to face the world with just yourself and that handsome scowl of yours, no matter how many people want to be in your corner.”

“It’s a habit that’s served me well so far.” He shrugs. Though Erik knows he doesn’t always have the same standards of being well as some others.

“Just because you’ve had me around to pick you up when you need it. But even women as spectacular as me need backup sometime, you know?” Magda pokes at his side jokingly, only to grow more serious a moment later and hug him close. “I just don’t want you to get so caught up looking after the rest of the world that you forget to look after yourself. Or spend so long looking for the worst in people you never see the good.”

“For someone who claims not to be my mother, you sure do sound like her a lot,” he complains, however half hearted it might be.

Magda laughs. “Edie sat me down for an entire course on dealing with you before letting me move out here with you. Now. Are you going to reach out to Charles or do I need to sign you up for JSwipe?”

“I’ll text Charles, you win this round. If he reveals himself to be some sort of secret white supremacist, you owe me,” Erik threatens.

“Darling, if Charles ends up revealing true colors like that, I’ll marry you myself to save us both the trouble.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah yes, so. very sorry for such a long absence. I got back to college and then like.... immediately had some things happened that were horrifically detrimental to my mental health and I was in no state to be working on fic. I can't promise an update schedule on this like I used to but it will be finished and I'll be updating whenever I can! thanks for sticking by me <3
> 
> two notes:  
> 1\. I'm not going to elaborate any more on what happened between erik and shaw. when i started planning it I was in a better mental state than I am now so I'm really not gonna touch it. sorry y'all feel free to take it and remix or do whatever you want but for now, all you'll have is that shaw was predictably a creep and emma got erik out of a bad situation. please don't ask for more than this, thanks!
> 
> 2\. I'm around Tumblr but also very much these days lurking around Discord [particularly, THIS X-Men server](https://discord.gg/WYNyhb2) talking about Magneto, cherik, crying about comics, and also, constantly whining about being late on updates. So anyways feel free to join me over there if you're all about those ~mag vibes~


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: mentions of ableism, vague mentions of anti-sw attitudes

 

_ {sms} Dinner next week? Seven on Wednesday?  _

 

Charles very nearly drops his phone when he opens the message. A part of him had very much expected Erik to simply block him on all relevant social media pages and never speak to him again. Which… well, Charles wouldn’t have been able to blame him for choosing that. Even with how much he’d hoped to be able to keep Erik in his life, he hadn’t given much thought to it actually happening. 

 

Perhaps it’s for the best, because what they both need right now is a bit more genuine interaction between them, not the same scripts as before. So as much as Charles wants to think it over a million times and make sure he sends back the ‘perfect’ response, he just types out the first coherent answer he can muster and hits send. 

 

_ {sms} That would be wonderful. Do you have somewhere in mind or shall I look into reservations?  _

 

Shockingly, Erik doesn’t come to his senses any time between the first message and Wednesday, because the date comes together with a solid plan and Wednesday evening, Charles is on his way to their agreed location, trying very hard not to make an ass of himself or run away before the date’s even started. It’s probably a losing battle anywhere he’s involved, particularly when Erik is involved as well, but at least he’ll try. 

 

Charles is very careful about not getting there late, but not early enough to be seen as overeager and set Erik off. (It’s the same worrying and overthinking that got them in this mess in the first place, but clearly, neither of them is very good at learning from their previous mistakes.) It pays off, though, because just as Charles wheels up to the front of the restaurant, Erik is rounding the corner. Charles waves, feeling entirely too awkward for the situation, and pauses to wait for him. 

 

“Hello.” Erik leans down and presses a kiss to Charles’ cheek, which is somehow more intimate than anything they’ve done up to now. 

 

“It’s good to see you again, Erik,” Charles says sincerely. There really is a sort of flutter in his heart at seeing Erik again. It’s a bit pessimistic, but Charles can’t help but wonder if this will just make it that much worse if Erik decides he wants nothing to do with him after. 

 

They go inside and get led to a table, where a waiter is quick to come over to leave water at the table and take their drinks tables. If there’s one good thing about a visible disability, it’s the way waiters are constantly trying to rush over and handle him as quickly as possible. (Of course, there’s the times he just gets ignored for long spans of time on end, but Charles is just grateful tonight isn’t one of those nights.) Once the waiter’s gone off, they sit in silence for a few minutes, fidgeting about and making the occasional useless comment about the menu. 

 

It’s a horrifically awkward silence, of the sort that Charles had been terrified of since the date had first been planned. By the time their wine is brought out, Charles is just about ready to put himself out of his misery. It’s only made worse when Erik starts chuckling a bit to himself. 

 

“I’m not laughing at you,” Erik assures him quickly. “I just find it rather funny how we’ve slept with each other, but somehow, chatting over dinner is ten times more nerve wracking.” 

 

Charles breathes out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God. I thought perhaps it was just me. You’re nervous too? I thought I was just being as silly as always.” 

 

“No, I don’t think you’re silly. Particularly not now. This isn’t exactly the sort of situation one ever prepares for, is it?” He shrugs.

 

“It’s very much not.” Charles shakes his head. “I do feel better knowing you were nervous, too. You always come off so confident, I feel like even more of a fool by comparison.” 

 

“I’m rather adept at maintaining professional exteriors, so… don’t judge yourself too harshly. I probably get just as nervous as you,” Erik says. 

 

A few seconds after, Charles sees one of Erik’s memories pressing into the outer corners of his mind, one from just a short while earlier, when Erik had changed his shirt half a dozen times while getting ready for tonight. It makes Charles feel better, truth be told. 

 

“Perhaps we can be nervous together?” Charles suggests. “It can be one of the things that brings us closer.” 

 

Erik chuckled. “Sure. We can be unnecessarily worried and panicked together. It’ll be a bonding experience. Not that we need much more of the awkward getting to know each other, do we?” 

 

“No, you’re right. Perhaps we would have been better just going to my apartment like usual and ordering some takeout,” he agrees. 

 

“We still could. It doesn’t have to end up in… the usual way. It could just be, you know, spending time together in a place we’re more used to.” Erik shrugs. 

 

“Well… We’re already here. We can have a nice meal and see how we’re feeling by the end.” 

 

Really, Charles would absolutely love to go home with Erik right now, even for absolutely platonic reasons. But he’s as nervous as ever about seeming too eager and besides, being in private with Erik before he really has a chance to calm his thoughts again seems like a recipe for disaster.  Erik’s been patient in the past, but Charles isn’t exactly looking forward to testing his luck. 

 

Dinner is a calm affair, just a relaxed sort of conversation over wine and their food. It’s nothing particularly groundbreaking or exciting, but it gives Charles a chance to stop panicking quite so much. When he and Erik are on the cab back to his apartment, Charles no longer feels like he’s about to keel over from the nerves at any coming second. It’s an improvement and Charles is willing to let himself be the slightest bit optimistic about it. 

 

When they arrive at Charles’ building, Erik holds the door open and rests his hand on Charles’ shoulder while they’re on the elevator ride up. It’s not much at all, but it does make Charles feel like some smitten, lovesick teenager. 

 

“Hmm, I don’t know if we’ve ever walked in here together,” Erik notices as he closes the door behind them. 

 

“First time for everything,” Charles says, going to his kitchen to fetch a pair of wine glasses and a bottle. “Would you like another drink?” 

 

“Sure. Let me, though,” he insists. Erik takes the bottle and glasses from Charles and shoos him off to the living room area. 

 

He comes back a few minutes later with two glasses and settles down next to Charles. When Charles leans in closer to take his glass, Erik takes the chance to steal a quick kiss. Charles turns an embarrassing shade of pink at that, but he can’t really be upset at it. He’ll gladly be embarrassed as often as need be to enjoy Erik kissing him. 

 

“Haven’t changed your mind about this, have you?” Charles asks. 

 

Erik chuckles, leaning back with his wine and reaching an arm around Charles’ shoulders. “That’s funny. I was just about to ask you the same thing.” 

 

“As if anyone would change their mind about a chance at being with you.” He scoffs. 

 

“Oh? And why’s that?” Erik asks dubiously. 

 

“Well…” Charles can feel a hesitant sort of weariness from Erik, but he does his best to not let it influence his answer. “You’re smart and patient and devastatingly handsome. Those are rather compelling reason already.” 

 

“Smart and patient?” Erik repeats. And try as he might to keep that handsome, nonchalant look to him, an unbearably soft smile peeks through. “Here I thought you just liked me for my pretty face.” 

 

And of course, now that Erik says it out loud, Charles sees how obvious it is that Erik had been worried Charles saw him as some attractive conquest and nothing more. It is, after all, how they’d met and the exact sort of people Erik deals with for work. Charles is hopeful that he’s made it clear thus far that he’s fond of Erik for reasons beyond just looks, but it wouldn’t hurt to be a bit more proactive in expressing those feelings. 

 

Charles tugs Erik a little closer to lean against his shoulder and kisses the top of his head. They’ve done much more than that in the past, of course, but this feels far more intimate. “It doesn’t hurt, of course, but there’s far more to like you for. Maybe I’ll write my next article about all the reasons you’re the peak of human evolution.” 

 

“You’re just being ridiculous now,” Erik says. However, even with how grumpily he rolls his eyes, Charles doesn’t miss the way he blushes. It’s a lovely color on Erik and if Charles can see more of it, he’ll be glad to cause it. 

 

Charles leans forward to put his wine glass down on the coffee table, trying to free his hands up so he can more properly wrap them around Erik. “Not ridiculous at all. You’re patient, like I said, but you’re incredibly feisty at the same time. Which is a good thing, considering you have so many flawed political opinions and I’d never be able to hold back from arguing them all with you. Neither would you, to be fair, which is another reason we fit well together. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who enjoys arguing as much as I do. Well, perhaps a few, but mostly people who like arguing for the sake of it and weren’t a fraction as well informed as you. Because I do have to give it to you, for all we might disagree, you’re certainly well researched in everything. How you balance all that research and law school is a mystery to me, but we’ll add it as one of the mysteries I like you for.” 

 

Charles could probably go on for a while, but Erik sputters in embarrassment and reaches up to try silencing him. “All right, all right. I get it,” Erik insists. 

 

“Shush, I haven’t finished talking. Wait your turn, pet,” Charles murmurs, swatting his hands away. He sounds far more confident than he feels, but it’s almost easy when Erik looks so pretty when he’s embarrassed like this. “I’m missing one very big part of it all. Don’t you want to know what it is?” 

 

“...all right,” Erik mumbles, ducking his head against Charles to hide his embarrassment somewhat. 

 

“You don’t treat me any different because I’m in my chair,” Charles says, leaning in to give him a gentle kiss. “I get to feel normal around you.” 

 

“Because you are normal. It’s the people who treated you differently who were at fault, not you,” Erik insists. Charles finds it incredibly endearing that Erik can apparently recover from his embarrassment when it means speaking up to defend Charles’ honor. 

 

“Whatever the reason.” Charles shrugs. “You don’t treat me any differently and I’m grateful for that.”

 

“I don’t think basic human decency is something worth being complimented for, but from you? I’ll take it,” he decides. 

 

The both of them get more comfortable on the couch, with Charles leaning against the armrest so Erik can make himself cozy against Charles’ chest. Sitting on a couch, drinking wine, and chatting isn’t a very exciting Wednesday night, nor is it really how Charles imagined the night might end up going, but like with most unexpected happenings where Erik is involved, Charles finds he’s rather pleased with the unexpected turn of events. His time with Erik has a good habit of falling into place right where it should. 

 

“I should probably start heading home before Magda worries,” Erik says, a few hours later when the wine is long since finished and they’ve just been finding excuse after excuse to stay a while longer. 

 

“You could stay?” Charles suggests, driven forward by the unearned confidence that late nights bring. 

 

“On a first date? How scandalous,” Erik teases. He kisses Charles’ cheek one last time before standing up off the couch. “It wouldn’t make for a proper courting.” 

 

“Is that what we’re doing? Courting each other?” he asks, shifting himself around a bit to sit up straighter. 

 

“It’s a silly way to put it. I know. But… it would be nice. If you’ll have me.” Erik shrugs like he doesn’t care all that much one way or another, but Charles has a feeling Erik’s more worried about this than he’s letting on. 

 

“Darling, I’m not all too sure what part of this evening has made you think I wouldn’t want you,” he points out. 

 

Erik shrugs again, busying himself with getting his coat and shoes back on, a rather obvious tactic to avoid looking in Charles’ direction. “I just mean to say that I’m probably not going to have a new job anytime soon. And if that bothers you… Well. I can’t do much more before promising you that you’re the only one feelings are involved with.” 

 

“I might… be a bit jealous sometimes,” Charles admits. “But that’d be rather hypocritical of me, considering how we met. I’m not going to like you any less because of something as silly as a job.” 

 

“Maybe this is a conversation best finished while sober and well rested, but… thank you.” Erik smiles and leans down to kiss him. “You might have more luck convincing me to stay on a second date.” 

 

“I’ll be sure to plan something out soon, then,” Charles promises. 

 

He transfers himself onto his chair so he can escort Erik to the door and, more importantly, get himself another kiss. Charles knows they still have plenty to talk about and that he’ll probably have a whole other headache to deal with once his friends find out. Even beyond that, for all Charles knows, he and Erik might last two weeks before the novelty wears off and all this pining and stress will have been for nothing. But for now, he’s content to just watch Erik leave his apartment and fantasize about how nice it’ll be when Erik doesn’t leave for the night. When they spend the night together because they want to and not because of an agreement. It might be the most excited Charles has been in years.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh to be in a fic and fall in love so quickly. 
> 
> also: I never really wanted this to be a fic where like erik falls in love and leaves sex work, somehow implying he's been redeemed or saved or something. time and health kind of got away from me in not letting me really tackle is as deeply as I would have liked, but I hope the class privilege lens it semi wraps up with in this chapter is a worthy replacement!

After that first date, Erik knows he’s absolutely done for. He feels drawn to Charles for better or for worse and no matter how much he knows this could end up horrifically messy, he feels more and more with every passing second that it’s worth the odds. Magda takes one look at him when he comes home from his date and laughs. 

“Oh, darling, you’ve got it bad,” she says, pulling him over to sit next to her on the couch. 

Erik rolls his eyes. “I’ve got it someway or the other, I’ll give you that.” 

“You deserve it. You keep your heart tied away under too many locks and chains,” Magda insists, pulling him into a cuddle. “And not even the fun sort.” 

“Does your mind ever stop wandering?” he asks, scoffing fondly. 

She shakes her head. “Of course not. I’m too fun for that. Tell me about your date. Have you got future plans, already?” 

“Let’s take it one day at a time.” And despite saying that, Erik is most definitely already thinking about all the different things they can do if they keep seeing each other. Moments like this, Erik almost wishes he were really as hard hearted as some people seem to believe he is. Because this whole thing? Opening himself up to the vulnerability of letting someone in is horrifying. But sometimes, it seems it really can’t be helped. 

  
\-----

It goes well, actually. Erik’s almost afraid to say it, as though thinking things are going well is a sure fire way of ruining it all. Honestly, that’s probably not too far from the truth, given what his luck usually looks like. But avoiding absolutely everything over pessimistic hypotheticals is probably no way to live life, so he lets himself calm down a bit and enjoy it.

A month in, there’s no way Erik would say anything even close to love out loud, but he thinks it often enough. It’s a testament to Charles’ commitment to never meddling in his mind that he hasn’t overheard anything by now. Gd knows Erik’s mind wanders plenty on the nights they spend together. Which are becoming more and more common. Erik hadn’t set out to pick up less work with the more time he spent with Charles, but that’s how it all turned out. He stops taking new clients first then trims down some more sporadic regulars and before he knows it, he’s free most nights and spending them with Charles. As a boyfriend, not a job. 

It makes his budget tighter, but they’re in the honeymoon sort of phase right now anyway and wants to enjoy it. Part of him is sure this will end sooner rather than later and he doesn’t want to miss his chance by being out with people he doesn’t really care for anyway. Much better to stay curled on Charles’ couch like this, watching some documentary off Netflix and using it more as an extended excuse to stay cuddled up. 

“You can’t possibly watch this whole film and still think your way is the way to go about mutant liberation,” Charles notes, petting Erik’s head fondly where it lies on his lap. 

Erik scoffs. “I can and I will. Funny. I was just about to ask you the same thing.” 

This would probably end up in one of their friendly arguments - that may or may not count as foreplay to eventually move to the bedroom - but there’s a jingle of keys at the door and in walks a blue skinned woman that Erik remembers as Charles’ sister. Probably not the best situation to be found in by his barely boyfriend’s sister, but she lets herself in so quickly, Erik hardly has time to sit up so he’s at least not sprawled all over Charles’ lap. 

“Charles, would you answer your texts sooner than two days for once in your life?” she complains, sighing as she sets down a bag by the entrance. She turns over towards them and comes to an abrupt stop when she spots Erik on the couch. “Oh. I didn’t realize you had company. Um. Erik, isn’t it? Or, uh, sorry, I mean Max?”

Erik shifts uncomfortably, all too aware that she and Charles must have talked about him at some point. “Erik is fine. That’s what most of my American friends call me. And, uh, yeah. Just visiting Charles. I can head out if you two need to be alone.” 

Charles’ hand is on his knee to keep him in place a moment later. “It’s okay. Raven didn’t even tell me she was coming over.” 

“If you ever checked your phone you’d have seen,” she grumbles. And then immediately seems to remember Erik is there and grows uncomfortable again. “I’m sure you two are… busy. I’ll come by later.” 

“Erik’s not working right now, Raven. It’s fine,” Charles mumbles. 

“He’s… not?” she asks. 

Erik supposes that at least it gives him a better when Charles and Raven had talked. He looks over to Charles and sighs. “I take it you haven’t talked much about this lately?”  

“It hadn’t come up,” Charles apologizes, shrugging. “Raven, Erik and I are boyfriends. Of sorts. We’re taking it slow, except not really. It’s, uh… well, we’re boyfriends, that’s the important part.” 

“Oh. Cool. Uh, cool to see you again, Erik. I’m very open minded, don’t worry,” she assures him. Which is probably not as cool and free spirited a thing to say as she thinks it is, but Erik will take what he can get. 

“Details of my love life aside, what did you come by for, Raven?” Charles asks. He loosens his grip on Erik’s knee so it’s not quite so protective and possessive, but only slightly. “I assume it wasn’t just to come play the role of ever annoying little sister?” 

“Oh shut up. You love me. I came by because Hank’s birthday is in two weeks and I absolutely need your help coming up with a good gift idea for him. I figure that you’re a nerd, he’s a nerd, it’ll be perfect!” she explains. 

Charles doesn’t even sound surprised, just resigned as he sighs. “You drop by unannounced for birthday gift help? You couldn’t text me?” 

“Not unannounced! I told you half an hour ago I was coming over,” Raven reminds him. 

Erik lets out a bit of a laugh, nostalgic for the ridiculous bickering between himself and his sister, and moves to get up from the couch. “I can go. Leave you to your family matters.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Erik. You’re part of the family now. You stay and brainstorm with us,” she says, pushing him back down to sit. 

“Oh. I don’t know if maybe you misinterpreted Charles, but we’ve only been together about a month,” he clarifies. 

“Oh, please.” Raven scoffs. “I know my brother. He takes absolute ages to dive into anything and even longer to put labels on it. If he’s calling you a boyfriend, I have to assume you two are practically engaged by now.” 

“So! About that birthday present for Hank!” Charles blurts out, turning that embarrassed shade of pink that Erik absolutely loves. 

Raven obliges by changing the topic and Erik takes it easy for once, not pushing at it or teasing him to see him get more and more embarrassed. (Or, more truthfully, he at least doesn’t do anything worse than a couple of suggestive glances when Raven isn’t looking.) As soon as Raven is gone, though? It’s a free for all as far as Erik is concerned. 

He grins and moves to plop himself down on Charles’ lap. Teasing, he asks, “What’s this about being practically engaged?”

“That’s just my sister being ridiculous, don’t mind her,” Charles mumbles, looking away from Erik again. 

“Trust me, I know a thing or two about untrustworthy sisters,” Erik agrees, laughing a bit. “But there’s not even a little bit of truth to it? Are you sure?” 

“Engagement is perhaps too strong a word,” he says. Before continuing, he takes one of Erik’s hands and presses a kiss to his knuckles. “But I’m serious about you.” 

“You’re serious about me, huh? I’m rather lucky, then.” 

“I don’t want to get into an argument about who’s luckier, but I will if you keep talking nonsense like that as thought I’m not the absolute luckiest man in the world.” 

Predictably, they argue lightheartedly until they collectively decide that kissing is a better idea than arguing. Which it definitely is. Erik is happy to simply kiss lazily on the couch for a while, until Charles sees the time from a clock on the side table and pulls back. 

“Don’t you usually have an appointment to get to around this time?” he asks, double checking the time on his wrist watch. 

Erik shrugs. “I cancelled that ongoing one. Redirected him to a friend instead. I’m all yours for the rest of the evening.” 

“Oh. Not that I don’t mind your company, darling, but you're not working less… for my sake, are you? Even if I do get jealous sometimes, I don’t want you changing up your life for me. That’s not the sort of boyfriend I want to be,” he insists, after a long moment of hesitation. 

“Charles. That was never going to be my life career,” Erik says. “We’ve talked about it before. I want to go into law and into nonprofits for mutant rights. Not exactly the most profitable of careers. Unfortunately, we don’t all have the trust fund to get us through degrees for whatever we want, so… this is just getting by so I’m not in quite so much debt when I graduate. Not a life, just… getting by. And by now, I’ve just about gotten by. Just a few more months left.” 

“Well… Don’t go and get proud, okay? If you need help, just ask. What’s the point of dating a trust fund baby if not that?” Charles points out. 

Erik snorts softly. “That and being a plus one to fancy parties, of course.”

“Of course,” he agrees. Charles pulls him into a chaste kiss before growing serious again. “So you’re pretty… serious about me, too, huh?”

“You hadn’t figured it out by now?” 

\-----

Erik goes home on a bit of a high, perhaps more excited than a grown man should be about a relationship, but undeniably pleased with himself. Magda takes one look at him and looks just as about as pleased as he does. She beckons him over and pats the back of a chair next to her. 

“Come here and tell me all the highs and lows of your love life,” she requests. 

“It’s not all that interesting. We just established that we’re ‘serious’ about each other,” Erik explain as nonchalantly as possible. He knows there’s next to no chance of Magda not getting ridiculously excited about it, but it’s worth a try, at least.

“Serious, huh?” Magda grins and grabs Erik’s hand. She pretends to inspect it carefully, dwelling on his ring finger. “You’re serious but no promise ring? Come on, you’ve both got to step it up a bit.” 

“I’ll pass along the feedback.” He rolls his eyes. 

“Good, thank you. So, how serious are we talking here? Are you going to tell your mother?” she asks. 

Erik shudders a bit at the thought. “If I tell my mother, she’ll be on the next plane here. Not something any of us needs. But maybe I’ll tell Ruthie about it. If she swears to a vow of secrecy.” 

“Your mother will know within two hours of your sister, but it’s cute how you still think you can convince her to keep secrets,” Magda laughs. 

That’s true, but Erik supposes there’s probably a part of him that hopes she really will spill to their mother and it’s one less thing he has to worry about. But, of course, Erik’s just getting ahead of himself at this point. That’s probably the best way to guarantee things go terribly. Or the best way to take things in the direction he wants, is what Charles would probably say. (And it already says plenty about him that he’s wondering what Charles would say about it.)

His parents will find out about it eventually, probably. Without getting too wild in his thoughts, Erik hopes it’ll be the last time he has to bring someone home to them. His face must be going through that goofy, schoolboy daze it does when thinking about Charles, because Magda grins and pokes him in the side. 

“Looks like I’m leaving you in good hands if I go home after graduation,” she says, squeezing his shoulder.

“Let’s just see if we make it another month without killing each other in some debate about mutant policy or something. Then we can start with all the crazy forever after talk.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How I've been can only be described in the absolute highs and lows of these last few days: saw Elton John on Saturday and then spent half a ballet class today ducking out to try very hard not to cry in a bathroom while thinking about someone. oy vey. 
> 
> anyways! the projected chapter count for this is finally final I think so buckle up for the last couple of chapters. just fluff from here on out to be real with you.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to lie this chapter made my heart all warm and fuzzy

Erik feels like he blinks and suddenly, it’s summer. The weather’s warmed up again, all his hellish finals are behind him, he has a solid internship lined up for all of August. It’s great. Charles is particularly excited about spending more time together, now that neither has classes to attend and far more time. So of course, Erik feels like the world’s biggest asshole when he breaks the news that he actually spends the first six weeks of summer in Germany. 

 

“Germany as in… all the way across the ocean Germany?” Charles clarifies when Erik tells him. 

 

He nods. “Unless there’s another Germany I should know about.” 

 

“A boy can hope.” Charles sighs, looking pathetically disappointed by the whole thing. 

 

“I’m sorry. We can video chat every chance we get. And text, so you can keep sending me obnoxious science memes and I can keep sending you passive aggressive articles about mutant-focused social justice,” he promises. He leans forward to give Charles a quick kiss, if nothing else because it should be illegal to look so cute while pouting. “It’ll go by quickly.” 

 

“You’re probably right. You sure you won’t go off and find someone you like better over there?” he asks. 

 

“Is that what you’re worried about? Come on, now. You know I’m picky. Can’t be with someone too much like me or I’ll get tired of it, can’t be with someone too different or my throat would probably give out from all the screaming matches. You’re just right for me,” Erik promises. 

 

“Okay, Goldilocks. I get it. You and I are soulmates and all that,” he mumbles, rolling his eyes. 

 

“Like I said. The only thing keeping you from being the perfect man is that you’re not Jewish. And that can be arranged, right?” Erik winks at him and decides the only way to properly distract from all these silly thoughts making him think he’s not good enough to hold Erik’s attraction even while Erik is away from him. If anything, he’s worried how being away might make even more painfully obvious how very far gone Erik is for him. More than a month away from each other and his mother there to go absolutely nuts over the possibility of him settling down if she ever hears even a whisper about Charles… It’s a recipe for disaster and all the sorts of feelings Erik tries very much to avoid. Bit late for that with Charles, though.

 

\----

 

Going home has never felt this bittersweet. Normally, Erik is more than happy to leave behind America and the stress of school work and spend a few weeks lazing around in his childhood bedroom like he’s a teenager again. Usually, though, he doesn’t have someone back in New York he wants to get back to as he does Charles. He’s moody and mopey all flight long, a fact which Magda teases him mercilessly for, no surprise there. 

 

“You know what would make you feel better than watching yet another of the sappy rom-coms the airline has decided to bless us with? Taking a nap on my shoulder. So you feel better, of course, not so I get blackmail worthy pictures of you to send back home to Charles,” Magda suggests, reaching over to pat his knee. 

 

“One of these days, I’m going to go through with all my threats to replace you,” Erik mumbles, rolling his eyes a bit. 

 

They bicker like that the whole flight and the whole drive to Erik’s house, because really, there’s nothing the two of them do any better than arguing like an old married couple. It’s good to know that if everything with Charles doesn’t work out, he can still fall back on some fail safe marriage with Magda. His mother would probably be happy with either option at this point. 

 

Speaking of his mother, Erik will never know how someone with so much perky energy managed to give birth to someone as moody as him. Even his sister isn’t even a fraction as excitable as their mother. It’s probably their father’s quiet nature that balances them out, because really, his mother could power a whole town on her energy. When she spots him and Magda coming up the front steps, she runs out to meet them, with energy more appropriate for a woman in her twenties than one in her sixties. 

 

She pulls him into a much tighter hug than would be expected, given her small frame, and covers his face with kisses. As soon as she starts squeezing his shoulders and sides, Erik knows he’s in for a lecture about needing to eat more and getting some meat on his bones, but he’s happy to oblige. Why he ever found this sort of stuff annoying as a kid, he’ll never know. Clearly, he hadn’t been thinking straight.

 

“Missed you too, Ma,” Erik murmurs, because it’s true. He hugs her tightly enough to lift her a few inches off the ground for a moment before setting her back down so she can go fuss over Magda. 

 

“Oh, look at you two,” Edie cooes, reaching up to pat both their cheeks like they’re twelve and not 30. “I swear, you’re taller every time you come home on one of your university breaks.” 

 

“Ma, Magda and I both definitely stopped growing more than a decade ago. If anyone’s changing, it’s you getting shorter,” he insists. 

 

“Maybe you just look taller. Being so chipper these last few months has completely changed you. Sometimes even I hardly recognize you,” Magda teases. 

 

“He’s been happier?” Edie asks brightly. “Come on in, you two, and you can tell me all about it.” 

 

Erik glares over in Magda’s direction when his mother’s not looking, because now she’ll definitely start to pry about anything new in his personal life. There was….. a slim to none chance of Erik escaping this trip home without his mother finding out about Charles, but now it’s nonexistent for sure. Poor Charles. He’ll have an overbearing Jewish mother on his case any day now. 

 

While they head inside, Erik takes his time saying hello to his father and taking his and Magda’s bags upstairs to the bedrooms. Every moment he can get away with not sitting down is another moment his mother doesn’t get to interrogate him about his life. More specifically, interrogate him about his love life, because his mother’s been ready to see him get married for years. His stalling only works for so long before his mother simply grabs hold of his arm and tugs him down onto the couch. 

 

“There’ll be time for all that later. Your father and I want to hear about how life is going,” Edie says, sitting down next to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulder so he can’t escape. 

 

“Oh come on, Ma.” Erik laughs. “We talk on the phone every week. It’s not as though there’s some huge backlog you have to catch up on.”

 

“It’s so different seeing you while you say it all, though. This way I can see your face and tell if you’re just lying to make your Mama feel better,” she explains. 

 

“Well, if that’s the problem, there’s always Skype,” he suggests. 

 

Jakob grumbles from his armchair, the fond but tired grumble Erik heard so often while growing up. “Just go on and tell her about your semester, boy. You know you don’t stand any chance at winning this argument.” 

 

That’s true enough, Erik has to admit, and if he doesn’t say something soon, Magda will probably start answering on his behalf and that’s the last thing he needs right now. Magda thrives on causing chaos in their household. So he gets to telling his mother some of the more fun, wholesome anecdotes of the semester and does expert work sidestepping all of Magda’s attempts to get him to start talking about Charles. 

 

He’ll tell his parents eventually, of course. Just… not right now. Maybe in a few weeks or closer to the end of the trip, when Erik’s sure they’ll even survive the time apart. He’s not ashamed of Charles and he’s certainly not worried that his mother might not like him, but his mother also tends to fall for his boyfriends even harder than he does. Erik can’t mention so much as a casual date without her getting excited about even the most slim of chances that her baby boy might be getting married soon. No matter how many times Erik’s told her that he really has no interest in that sort of thing and any date he goes on will be kept strictly casual. 

 

Except he’s no longer so sure that marriage is so out of the question for him and if his mother starts planning some dream wedding between him and Charles, never mind the logic against it all, he won’t really have the heart to fight against it like he usually does. Because Charles… well, he’s not some meaningless fling he’s already planning on calling off. So no. Better they just not talk about it at all.                                                                                                                                          

 

\-----

 

Unsurprisingly, Erik’s strategy of perpetual avoidance doesn’t last nearly as long as he’d hoped. He keeps his promise to Charles to video call as often as possible, which isn’t quite so simple with their time difference. Even doing it as late or early as either is willing or able to get up, their calls always end up being while other people in the house are awake. And for all Erik employs all his old sneaking around techniques from when he was a teenager, his luck doesn’t last forever. 

 

The fact that they’re both fully dressed when his mother barges in is a small blessing Erik will accept. 

 

“Max, your sister is on the phone with your father. Come say hello,” she says, coming into his room without so much as a knock. 

 

“I’ll be out in a second, Ma,” he mumbles quickly. As much as Erik tries to angle the laptop away so his mother won’t see Charles on the screen, nothing can escape Edie’s eagle eyes. 

 

“Oh, are you on a call with a friend?” she asks, stepping over to look into his computer screen. 

 

Poor Charles looks like a deer in headlights and Erik isn’t faring much better. He could say, of course, that he’s talking with a friend, but chances are, he’ll tell her the truth sooner or later anyway and it’ll probably be ten times worse if his mother knows he’d previously kept it a secret. “Ma, this is Charles. My boyfriend.” 

 

“Your  _ boyfriend _ ?” Edie repeats, sounding far, far too excited about the whole thing. She moves to sit down next to him, even though Erik’s desk chair is most certainly not meant for two. “You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend! Hello, Charles! I’m Edie, Max’s mother. You can call me Mama, though.” 

 

On second thought, maybe Erik should have lied. “Ma. Stop it. You’ll scare him away. I’ll be out in a second.” 

 

“No, none of that. Jakob! Get in here and bring the phone. Put Ruthie on speaker. We’re going to meet Max’s  _ boyfriend _ ,” she calls out to the living room. 

 

Erik groans softly. “I’m sorry, Charles. My mother is a force that can’t be contained. She’ll bite my hand off if I try to hang up. She can’t stop you, though. You’re an ocean away. The power’s all in your hands, motek.” 

 

“No, it’s okay,” Charles says, laughing awkwardly. Erik can only imagine how mortified he is about this whole thing, even if he is being polite about it. “Your mother is sweet. I’m Charles. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Eisenhardt.” 

 

“Edie, please. If you’re not going to call me Mama, I still refuse to get called so formally by my baby boy’s boyfriend,” she insists. 

 

Jakob peeks his head in through Erik’s door, holding his cellphone out. “You’re right, Ruth. His boyfriend  _ is  _ out of his league.” 

 

“That’s enough out of all of you, I think!” Erik says, growing more and more mortified with every second. He reaches for the laptop to turn the call off, but his mother keeps him away with that secretly superhuman strength of a determined Jewish mother. 

 

“No way, Mags, we’re having our fun. Put me on a video call, Papa. That little button on the lower left corner of the call,” Ruth asks, a tiny voice from the phone’s speakers. 

 

Erik could probably just short circuit all of the technology in the house and be done with it. He can just cut off the power for their whole street and problem solved. But he’s sure even Charles wouldn’t let him live that down, so… Here he is. Regretting just about every decision of the last ten minutes while his boyfriend meets his parents and sister in some strange combination of Skype, FaceTime, and two middle aged parents who are absolutely hopeless at technology. Charles, at least, looks positively charmed by all of it. 

 

(Admittedly, there’s worse places to be.) 

 

\----

 

The call ends eventually, since it’s much the day isn’t over just yet for Charles and he still has to get to his lab for research. (Something Edie absolutely loves, since she can technically tell all her friends that her son is dating a doctor, even if it’s not a medical one.) Erik gets interrogated over dinner, which is no big surprise. No matter how many times he tells his mother that they’re a fairly new relationship and not to get ahead of herself, Erik just knows she’s already planning their wedding in her head. 

 

Before he goes to bed, Erik sends Charles a text, hoping to catch him during a break of one of his long nights of being holed up in his lab. A few minutes after sending it, his phone lights up with a call from Charles. 

 

“Hey there, Mags,” Charles teases, as soon as he hears Erik pick up. 

 

Erik rolls his eyes, even if Charles can’t see him. “I should have known I’d be the only one losing when you met my family.” 

 

“That’s what I wanted to check up on. I don’t know if I should have just wrapped it up and hung up when you said? I’m sorry. I panicked and one thing led to another and next thing I know I’d been on with your family for half an hour. I hope that was okay,” he says. 

 

“Of course it’s fine,” Erik reassures him. “So long as they didn’t manage to scare you, why wouldn’t it be? I’d have told them about you sooner or later.” 

 

“I just don’t want to presume. I don’t know if this is… serious enough to be meeting parents. I don’t want to push you where you don’t want to go,” Charles explains. 

 

Part of Erik wants to be frustrated that Charles still sees the two of them so casually but another part of him knows that’s really on him for being so very difficult about letting his guard down. “I’m serious about you, Charles. Really serious. I guess something like this is better said in person, but… I love you, Charles.” 

 

“Oh.” For a moment, all Erik can hear is Charles’ sharp intake of breath and he worries he might have made a mistake, misread the whole situation. But then Charles whispers back, “I love you too, Erik.” 

 

“Lucky me. I hope you will for a long time. I’ve missed you terribly this whole trip. It’s made me realize how hopeless I am when you’re not around,” Erik admits. 

 

“Haven’t found some handsome German lad named Franz better than me?” Charles asks. 

 

Erik laughs. “Not at all. I’ve found the one for me already. He’s this pasty little English nerd and he’s got this ridiculous floppy hair that can’t possibly be professional even in academia and eyes that make me want to say blue is my favorite color instead of purple and a stupidly big heart that everyone but him can see. And being away from him feels like missing a part of me.” 

 

Over the line, Erik hears a tiny sniffle. “You big sap. I miss you, too. But enjoy your time with your family. Your mother seems like an absolute sweetheart.” 

 

“You say that now because she hasn’t pulled you aside to start asking you questions about a wedding you didn’t realize was being planned for you,” he warns. 

 

And somehow, they both stay up far too late on their call with each other. When Edie comes to fetch him for breakfast, Erik has only just barely gotten to sleep. She has a rare moment of mercy on him, though, and makes no mention of how utterly lovesick he looks all through breakfast while telling her about the man he snagged for himself overseas. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just one more chapter left!!! nothing but fluff here on out. thanks all for hanging on with me through these rough spots <3


	17. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is.... a slightly shorter chapter that we shall call an epilogue to wrap up their adventures. enjoy the fluff!
> 
> cw: a brief shovel talk

Charles is pretty sure he accidentally switched lives with someone else. It’s the only explanation for why he’s living such a radically different life from just a year ago. A year ago, he would have had a difficult time imagining being in a relationship at all, much less with someone like Erik. But here he is, living with Erik and going out on the sort of sickeningly sweet dates that belong more in romantic comedies than in a real life. Most mornings, Charles half expects to wake up and realize it was all some strange, drawn out dream. 

 

But no. Every morning, he still wakes up and finds Erik there next to him. If there’s one thing Charles likes more than seeing Erik absolutely wrecked after one of their play sessions, it’s seeing Erik half asleep and groggy while he stretches out next to him in bed. 

 

“Good morning, darling,” he murmurs, leaning over to peck the tip of Erik’s nose. 

 

Erik peers towards him with sleepy eyes and smiles. “Good morning. Big day today. Are you ready?” 

 

“I planned on asking you the same thing. I’m not the one walking the stage today,” Charles points out, pushing himself up so he’s sitting against the headboard. Without missing a beat, Erik moves to settle his head on Charles’ lap and Charles is happy to oblige him with scratching his hair gently. 

 

“You make it sound like I’m going to be accepting a Nobel Prize or something,” Erik says, muffled slightly by the way he’s pressed up to nuzzle against Charles’ stomach. “It’s a graduation with a few hundred other people. I think my high school graduation might have been a bigger fuss than this.” 

 

“Your graduation from law school! Besides, there could be a million people there and you’d still be the only one I care about,” Charles promises. 

 

“Let’s see how you feel about that when I’m living off your funds and trying to coerce you into paying off my student loans.” Erik laughs. 

 

He just scoffs a bit and neglects from saying how he really wouldn’t mind in the slightest having Erik around as his kept boy. Erik’s the one who would get cabin fever within a week. “Oh, come on. You have a job!” 

 

“At a non profit for mutant rights,” he points out. “I’d probably make more if I delayed my graduation another year and took a job as a TA.”

 

Charles shrugs that all away. Insignificant details that he couldn’t care less about. He’d been the one to throw Erik a celebration party after getting his job, even if the organization is a bit extremist for his tastes. “I’m more than happy to fund you while you go off and save the world. Now, as cozy as I imagine my lap must be, scooch off and I’ll go make us some coffee while you get yourself looking handsome for today. I’ll make it black and disgusting how you like it. Since it’s a special day, after all.” 

 

Erik gets off of Charles’ lap, mumbling something under his breath which Charles is pretty sure is something about lap time being better than a graduation, but he ignores, because he is  _ not  _ getting into another argument with Erik about whether academia is all a worthless sham or not. He transfers himself onto his chair and speeds through his morning routine, so Erik has the bathroom all to himself while he gets ready. True to his word, he brews a pot of the strongest coffee they have and pours one out for Erik. He adds milk and sugar to his own, because he’s not a heartless robot, thank you very much. 

 

And good thing he puts the mug down as soon as it’s poured out, because he would have almost certainly dropped it when Erik walks in. He hadn’t let Charles see his suit beforehand and though Charles had fussed about it, he’s glad for the surprise now. Erik looks absolutely stunning with his suit and a pair of trousers that should be illegal to wear in public with how well they frame his ass. Or maybe Charles is just a bit obsessed with Erik’s ass, but really, who could blame him? It’s a living work of art. 

 

Really, Erik as a whole is a work of art. He’d been smart making sure Charles didn’t see this outfit before today. He would have destroyed it in his eagerness to get it off him. Only knowing they have to be out of the house soon stops Charles now. 

 

“If the look you were going for was absolutely sinful, I’m happy to let you know that you’ve succeeded,” Charles tells him.

 

Erik laughs. “Great. That’s just the sort of look I’m going for at a graduation with my parents and sister in attendance.” 

 

“Don’t act innocent.” Charles knows his boyfriend a little too well by now. “You’re just trying to get me all riled up so I’ll pounce the second we’re back home.” 

 

“Maybe. You’ll never be able to prove it, though.” 

 

Charles rolls his eyes, not the least bit surprised. This is rather typical Erik behavior. Charles had probably just been foolish to think that his mother being around would be any reason for Erik to tone it down a bit. At least by now Charles has managed to build a weak immunity to Erik’s charm. Very weak, but better than nothing. Enough that he holds himself back to just a playful swat to Erik’s rear and then hands him his coffee. They’re not on too tight a schedule, but it’s easy to get distracted with Erik around. Much better to not take the chance at all. 

 

Through sheer force of will, Charles keeps them on schedule and they’re out on the way to Erik’s graduation ceremony on time. Charles does not get teary eyed from pride and affection when he carries Erik’s folded up gown on his lap for the trip. He most certainly doesn’t. He does, he’ll be the first to admit, get very weepy when Erik takes him to meet his family in person for the first time. 

 

“Charles! Oh, it’s so good to finally meet you in person!” Edie exclaims, leaning down to wrap him up in a hug. 

 

“You too, Mrs. Eisenhardt,” he says. Then quickly corrects himself, lest Edie take it as some great offence. “I mean Edie, of course.” 

 

“I’ll get you calling me Mama one day,” she promises, patting his shoulder. 

 

Erik takes after his mother in everything but personality, but his sister looks just like their father, with her blond hair and pretty blue eyes and sharp face. Charles might not even be able to see how they’re related, if it weren’t for the way they both stare him down with that shark like smirk. Ruth looks him over and nods approvingly. “So you’re the one who’s managed to tame my brother. You’re very brave.” 

 

“Oh, Max’s not so scary once you get to know him,” Charles says, reaching for Erik’s hand with 

a fond smile. 

 

“That’s what I always say. He’s a soft little thing underneath all those scowls,” Edie agrees. She reaches up to pat Erik’s cheek and Charles falls in love all over again when he sees how soft and sheepish Erik looks around his mother. 

 

“You should get you to your seats. Magda’s already saving practically a whole row for you all,” Erik says, leading them in the right direction. “And I should get going. See you in a bit and we’ll head out to dinner, yeah?” 

 

Charles gives him a parting kiss and then goes off with Erik’s family to meet up with Magda. Charles winds up next to Erik’s father, no matter how hard he tries to make it so he’s sitting with Magda. He’d face down a hundred dragons for Erik, but Jakob Eisenhardt is considerably scarier than a dragon. He has the same ominous sort of aura to him as Erik does, only if Erik were much older, much gruffer, and much scarier looking. Sure enough, while opening remarks are being made, Jakob leans over towards him and gets up close enough to whisper. 

 

“My boy acts tough as can be, but if you do anything to hurt him, I promise you’ll have a storm coming,” he warns him. “And I’m the least of your worries. Edie has a mean streak no one ever gets to see twice.” 

 

“I wouldn’t dream of it, sir,” Charles promises. 

 

And if he sits a bit stiffly for the rest of the ceremony, it’s just eagerness to see Erik come out onstage, however brief. Certainly not fear. 

 

By the end of it, Charles isn’t sure who has more pictures of Erik, him or Edie. Erik walking up, Erik taking his diploma, Erik walking off the stage, Erik sitting, Erik nodding off during a speech, Erik being elbowed awake by a classmate, Erik sitting some more, Erik just existing. Charles is just about the world’s proudest boyfriend right now, which Ruth jokes is making good competition with the world’s proudest Jewish mother right now. 

 

At the end, Erik finds them quickly amidst the chaos of all the families, thanks in no small part to the mental location pin Charles sends him. He wants Erik here with them as quickly as possible. Who can blame him? As soon as Erik gets close to them, he plops himself down on Charles lap and kisses him. He can practically feel Jakob glaring at the back of his head, but he doesn’t mind it too much. If he has to die today, he wants to do it with Erik on his lap and kissing him. 

 

“Ah, this is the most important part you missed, Ruth. Remember how lazy he’s always been? Well Max has his own personal chariot to take him places now. It’s been a change for the worse,” Magda mock whispers to Ruth, who just laughs. 

 

“Do you remember being that young and in love, Jakob?” Edie asks, sighing nostalgically. “You should probably walk, though, boychik.” 

 

Erik sighs dramatically as he gets on his feet again. “Fine, fine. Ruin my fun. Come on, then. We have a reservation at this great little kosher place in half an hour.” 

 

“Perfect! While we’re there, we can start making wedding plans. At a shul, of course, with a rabbi, though I’m amenable to traveling here if Charles wants it to be in New York. Have you thought kids already? Four is a lovely number.” 

 

“MA!” 

 

And even if he’s flustered as is humanly possible, Charles couldn’t be happier. He loves and is loved and got this new, ridiculous family in a package deal with his boyfriend. Who wouldn’t be happy? Four is a lovely number, he agrees, but he’ll save that conversation for another day. 

 

(Another day being tomorrow, after he gets an engagement ring on Erik’s finger during his graduation dinner. It’s a more perfect end to the year than he could have ever imagined.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a joy to write, even if it did get a bit off track at some points and experience some rough points. Thank you all for sticking with me! 
> 
> Much love.

**Author's Note:**

> for questions, prompts, or chatting I can be found on tumblr at [sebbym17](http://sebbym17.tumblr.com/) but also very much these days lurking around Discord [particularly, The Brotherhood](https://discord.gg/WYNyhb2) a lit X-Men Discord that you should definitely join if you like X-Men, cherik, magneto, etc. We're a fun group!


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